


Inhuman

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, And so do demons and angels, But thats not really relevent, Castiel having some inner conflict, Comfort, Cuz its slow, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel, Human Experimentation, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Monsters and stuff exist, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Trauma, did I mention slow burn?, the title might change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:52:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Officer Castiel Novak grew up in a large family. Being one of the younger brothers, he knows how to hold his own and is used to being alone. But when he is placed in a special unit, the life he has worked so hard to build is slowly crumbling around him. Dean Winchester has been locked away in a research facility since childhood. Cut off and isolated, he doesn't speak. His days are filled with memories of white hot flames and a father who didn't seem to love him. He's treated as a nameless thing, his identity stripped away. When Castiel goes on a mission and rescues a silent man with the eyes of a child, both men's lives begin to shift in a way that neither could imagine. Dean goes on a quest to figure out why he was in that facility, known as the Perdition Project. But the hardest part is getting used to the world that he has never seen or experienced before.





	1. Raised From Perdition

He's never spoken. Not once in years, to anyone in the building. The facility is dark and cold and he never speaks. Not to the nurses, or the others. Not even to himself. Since he was little, this world has been his only one. He can't even remember the light of day anymore, the brightness of the sun has faded from his mind's eye, replaced by the sterile, constant, dim light of his psuedo-home that never changes.

He has no identity, no purpose. He's as nameless as anyone else here. A corpse, a shell with no hope. But that's the point, isn't it?

"Come on John, you gotta eat something." The nurse persuades. John. That's not his name. "John. Come on, don't be like this." He knows that's not his name. His name is not John. But they have chosen to call him that, another way to strip him of anything resembling a personal identity.

He knows that his efforts are futile, that eventually they'll just shove a needle into his veins, give him nutrients that way. But he still refuses, he doesn't want to eat for fear of drugs in the food, or maybe just to show he has some soul left. Maybe he needs to know he has free will. But maybe he has reason to be scared, to be absolutely terrified of the people here. Maybe he wants to see the sun again. Like he hadn't since he was little. How old had he been? Four? Five? Not that it really mattered. He still remembered the confusion. As his father pushed him away, sent him here. To this hell, where he was imprisoned and drugged and tied down. He remembers his father distantly, an almost featureless face in his mind, warped by years away, a voice that isn't really a memory so much as a fabrication to comfort him in the darkness.

"Come on, John. Don't do this. You won't like it." He whimpers almost involuntarily. He never likes anything they do to him, it's always painful. But then, that's the point really. He doesn't understand the medical babble they spew, nor the technical terms for everything wrong with him. But he knows he's broken, that much is clear, has been clear since the moment he arrived. They stripped his identity, his family, every part of himself. They made him a nameless shell of a human being. Was he even human anymore? Was he even anything resembling human?

"John." He looks up, eyes weary. He shakes his head slowly, feeling something familiar build in his chest. "John." She repeats. That feeling builds and swells with every letter out of her mouth, until it hits a maximum and explodes all at once. He doesn't even know what he's doing, not until it's done. All he knows is that a few heartbeats pass and she's on the ground, nose bleeding onto the white tile. Her leg is bent unnaturally, almost backwards at the knee.

"My _name_ is _Dean_!" He demands, voice rough from disuse. But the message is clear. Now she lays on the ground, just as broken as him, blue eyes filling with fearful tears. Even he is surprised by the words making their way from his unused throat. "Dean! My name is Dean!" He yells it, over, and over, and over, and over. _Dean._ And it feels so good to say it, feel the shape of it in his throat, a kind of feeling he's never had before today. He holds it, echoes it, never wanting it to leave him. Until there's a prick in his neck and the world goes dark.

  
~~~~

  
He wakes up chanting it, his name. That insistence is so bright in his mind. It slowly diminishes, becoming just an endless chant of _Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean_. He hurts everywhere, a deep ache in his bones and he knows that they've cut him. He wondered why they didn't do it when he was awake. They usually did it when he was awake, when he could feel it. But he can feel the sting of a knife having pierced the skin on his chest, long gashes. And the familiar feeling of bandages on his arm where needles have been poked into his skin. He tries to sit up, but he's restrained. Of course, he attacked a staff member. He snapped, and someone of his strength could be very dangerous indeed.

He knows now that it was a hallucinogen that they gave him. Because there's his dad's face, right in front of him, scruffy and creased. Clearer than he thought possible. He hasn't seen the man in who knows how long, but every detail seems sharp, from his soft eyes to his sharp frown. The man's image is swimming in front of him, fading and sharpening. His vision is blacking and he squeezes his eyes shut. When they open again, he can see the fire. It's all around him, engulfing his surroundings in hungry flames. He tries not to scream, but he does. He can almost feel the ghost of the red inferno licking at his skin. He doesn't even hear his own screams, only feels them ripping from his ill-used throat.

But his dad's face is still there, though distorted by the flames in his vision, and his mouth is moving but he can't hear what he is saying over the memory of the crackling flames. It's so loud! How could anything be so loud? He thrashes in his restraints, but suddenly he's not in restraints. He's back in that room, falling down around him. Sammy is wailing. He has to get Sammy. His baby brother.

He doesn't know how he gets outside. He thrashes and he screams and he's back in that goddamn cell, with those goddamn walls and he doesn't know much but he knows his name is Dean. And he thinks maybe he's chanting it, his name. His name isn't John Doe, he's not some nameless creature. He has a dad, and a brother, and he had a mother. He's not homeless, he has family.

His name is Dean.

  
~~~~

  
Castiel Novak is new on the force. A sort of specialized unit dedicated to shutting down certain...operations that had begun to spring up in recent years. Most involving illegal human experimentation. Recently, his team had received a tip about this place. 

The building is gray, old, and run down looking, wood rotting from the sides. It seems as though no one has even touched the place in years. Castiel's team are advancing under the cover of night but the building is huge and a little bit...okay a lot, creepy. The rookie wondered, how could such a place ever hold such evil as had been described to him? It sounded like hell when they described it to him. Depriving and torturing their patients, drugging them, and overall treating them like shit.

The door to the giant warehouse is kicked open by the team leader, and they swarm in. All hell breaks loose. Its a flurry of confusion and activity and everything is happening so fast. People are running and shouting and he takes down a man about his age who's trying to lunge at him.  In mere minutes, every staff member they can find is contained and in cuffs.

At an order from his superior, Castiel goes to investigate the facility further to try and find patients or any stray staff members.

He's halfway down a hallway when he hears it. Someone is screaming. It sounds like a word, being screamed as loud as possible. But the whoever is screaming is running out of energy, every attempt getting quieter

"Dean!!" The voice screams. "Dean!" It keeps repeating and Castiel finds the room it is coming from about halfway down the hall. He tries the door, but it's locked, the handle only giving a weak jiggle when he tries to get it open. He kicks his foot against it hard, and it gives. This place is still run down after all, having been a warehouse of some kind once upon a time. When he enters the room he studies the scene before him. A man is restrained to a table, thrashing and yelling as much as his restraints will allow. Castiel rushes forward, trying to calm him. The second his fingers touch the man's arm, he stills. And he begins to whimper.

"Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean." The man whimpers. He's terrified, crying and shaking. Castiel moves to undo the restraints, quickly freeing the captive, and the man scuttles away.

"I'm sorry! I'll be good! I'll eat, I won't hurt anyone anymore! I'll even talk! See?!" The man is babbling, but his words are awkard. As if he's never spoken before. "I don't wanna see that anymore!" The man cowers against the wall, pleading. What the hell is this place? Is this what they did to people? Make them utterly terrified to do anything? To even defy them? Castiel gently lowers himself to the man's level, keeping his distance.

"Can you tell me your name?" He's trying to be gentle but it's sort of impossible with such a gravelly voice as his. He doesn't dare touch the man, thinking that would only make the situation worse.

"John! You can call me John if you want! I'm sorry, I know you call me that for a reason!" He's sobbing and Castiel wonders what that means. The man is sobbing and crying and it's almost like he's begging for his life, asking for mercy.

"Hey. Hey, look at me." Castiel urges, still not daring to touch him. The man looks up. "I'm not one of them, okay? I'm here to help you." Suddenly there are arms wrapped around him, clinging desperately.

"Dean. Dean, dean, dean, dean." The guy starts sobbing again with renewed strength. "My name is Dean." Castiel holds the younger man close, more of a boy really. He's thin and despite the beard that probably hasn't been trimmed in a few years, he has the eyes of a child.

He's easily able to lift Dean up in a bridal style hold, not even daring to think why the man is so light, and the thin patient clings to him for dear life, as if he's the only thing keeping him grounded. Castiel carries the boy away, he needs medical attention. There was noticeable blood seeping through his shirt and considering his pupils he has probably been on some very special drugs. He remembers in the briefing that these people used drugs to disorient and further control their patients.

When he reaches the common area, his superior rushes over. Dean clings closer to Castiel, fingers twisting desperately in the thin fabric of his shirt, eyes filled with fear. He tries to ease the man away but he just clutches tighter.

"Cas. We have medical on their way for other patients. Go outside, keep him calm, we can handle things here."

  
~~~~

  
Dean is being carried. He tries his best to hold on to the man as tightly as humanly possible. What if this is just another hallucination? It probably is. But the fabric curled in his finger feels real, the musk currently filling his nostrils, so unfamiliar, feels real. And that pain in his chest is quite real. It hurts, everything hurts and he's confused. He holds on to this man, trying to get a grasp on his sanity.

The man sits down outside and it's dark. He knows it's outside. But it's dark. Wasn't it supposed to be light outside? Had the sun fallen from the sky in the years he has been stuck inside that hell?

There's loud noises. Its so _loud_. Its so incredibly loud. Screeching noises are hitting his ears and he buries his face, trying to escape. He doesn't like it at all. The air around him screams danger and everything is so unfamiliar. 

There's hands on him and he tries to bat them away. A deep, reassuring voice meets his ears, relaxing him almost instantly.

"Dean, I need you to let them look at you, okay? Can you do that?" Dean. He's calling him by his name. He nods and his shirt is pulled away, the stitches have come loose and he is bleeding everywhere.

"We need to get him to a hospital, now." He hears someone say. What's a hospital? Why are the faces swimming? Why is his vision going dark?

"Hey. Dean, we need you to stay awake, alright?" But he can't. He's tired of doing as he's told, it's so exhausting. He's so exhausted. He wants to be done. He wants to sleep.

"Dean. Dean! Come on buddy you gotta stay awake." That gravelly voice. So much different from the high, annoying squeak of the nurses. It's almost soothing.

  
~~~~

  
"We'll take it from here, Officer." The doctor is conversing with Castiel. "The bleeding is stopped, we got him a transfusion in time. He'll be okay but he had some...unusual compounds in this system. Nothing like I've ever seen. Probably some form of hallucinogen judging by his body's reaction to it." Castiel nods along with the doctor's statements, remembering the information of the facility. The description seems consistent with how they found him. The doctor seems to look around, checking his surroundings, and he lowers his voice. "His chest was slashed to bits. Like someone took a knife and used him to rid themselves of frustration." His voice is filled with wondering disgust.

"Maybe he pissed off his captors." The doctor shakes his head at Castiel's bluntness.

"Maybe. But I also found elevated levels of white blood cells in his bloodstream but no sign of disease. He's perfectly healthy." Castiel furrows his brow in confusion but the doctor keeps talking. "He seemed comfortable with you, and if you wouldn't mind, could you at least be here until he wakes up? It would be easier to calm him down and we don't need a freak out." Castiel merely nods, he has already been told by his superior to stay with the patient.

  
~~~~

  
Dean is laying on something soft. There's the sound of beeping and someone's gentle breath. Dean opens his eyes slowly and for a second he doesn't know where he is. These walls aren't old and grey, they're pristine and white. The bed he lays on isn't a metal table with restraints, it's soft and comfortable. There's no nurse waiting to try and force feed him, but there is a man sleeping in a chair next to his bed.

_Where am I?_ Dean wonders. He had never seen something like this. All he remembers is fire, flames. And a man, warmth and security, a low voice. He realizes that that man is the one snoozing away next to him now. He makes a strangled sound, and whatever force he had summoned to speak earlier is gone now. The guy's eyes blink open slowly, as he takes in his surroundings.

"You're awake." He states, stretching out as he opens his mouth in a wide yawn. He's clothed in strange attire, which seems bulky and uncomfortable. Dean nods slowly. He points at the man and cocks his head. "What? Do I have something on my face?" He begins to hurriedly wipe at his face, searching for food or slobber jarring his features. Dean shakes his head and points at him again, more insistently and he seems to catch on.  "My name?" Dean nods. "Officer Novak. But call me Castiel." Dean nods, obviously satisfied, and relaxes against the pillows.

He drifts back off a while later. Castiel is right by his side. But he does not speak. Neither do. Its quiet. But it's nice.

  
~~~~

  
"We need to find his family." Castiel declares.

"Cas, we only have a first name and that could be false. He's obviously been there a while and there's tons of files on him in the computers. But we're trying to get into them first." The officer takes a deep breath. "When they release him, I need you to let him stay with you. It will only be a little while, but he won't even go near anyone else."

Castiel doesn't argue.


	2. Healed

Time seems to pass slowly in the hospital, though it's only been a day. 

When Dean is strong enough, Castiel helps him into his car, armed with instructions on care for his wounds and numbers of who to call in emergencies. The freed patient hasn't said anything since he woke up. Castiel remembered that in his ramblings he had said something about not talking, how he was sorry and would start to. Perhaps he doesn't. That's okay, he'll take his time. Castiel doesn't mind, he wants Dean to be comfortable, and if silence will achieve that then he's alright with that.

They're silent on the ride, neither saying a word. Dean is staring out the window, seemingly transfixed by what he sees. His eyes are filled with wonder and fear at the same time. How long had he been in that facility? How many years was he cut off from anything resembling the real world? Castiel yelps slightly as he runs a red light, having been too absorbed in his own head to pay attentiom. He was fascinated with watching Dean. Somehow, the other man doesn't even flinch at Castiel's blunder, just keeps his eyes trained on the world outside the car.

  
~~~~

  
It's all so...bright. But it's different from the constant light of the place that has been his home for almost two decades. The entire world is so foreign and terrifying. He recognizes some of the things he sees, flashes of memory. But for the most part, this is a completely different world. There's people everywhere. And not in those shitty scrubs or white coats, but in otherworldly garments. Things he's never seen, and there's so much color. There are people with hair of colors he can't even conceive. Is that a rare trait? Blue hair? He is somewhat saddened because his is unremarkable in comparison.

He remembers cars. But the car he remembers was a shiny, sleek, black beast. These cars seem bulky and stupid compared the one he remembers. Some are loud while others merely creep along, wuiey. Some seem too small to serve any purpose while others seem much too big. It varies so much that it makes his head spin. Everything is so bizarre and random.

He spots two men walking down the street holding hands. This is an oddity to the unciltured man. He's never seen that, he remembered his parents holding hands. And girls at his day care would hold hands, but it was weird for boys. He's slightly curious about this fact. But that's not really his concern at the moment because the drugs the doctors gave him are kicking in and his eyes are threatening to close, which he is somewhat grateful for. These drugs don't make him see horrors or remember things he doesn't want to. They just lure him away from wakefulness.

When next he wakes, Castiel is shaking him gently. "Dean. We need to go inside, okay? The bearded man nods, sleepily, letting Castiel help him from the car.

Castiel helps him up the steps of the building to a small apartment, where some form of weird bed has been set up in the living room. It is a bed, Dean knows that much. But he's never seen one of its like. He's layed down and passed out fairly quickly, marvelling at how soft the material is before his eyes drift closed.

  
~~~~

  
Dean is back inside that room, strapped to that table. And there's his dad, and that other man. Eerily sharp in focus. The flames are roaring around him and his heart is racing in fear. He tries to reach out, to call for help, but he can't. He's immobilized. He wants to cry, to scream, to do something. Anything. But he's trapped inside his own head, as he has been for so long. He's utterly trapped. He doesn't even feel the tears rolling down his cheeks. He's vaguely aware of someone wiping that tear away. But he's too far gone to care much at all. And he wants is to scream.

  
~~~~

  
Castiel wakes up to screaming. Dean is screaming. Castiel quickly jumps out of bed, rushing to the living room where Dean is staying on the sofa bed. Dean is thrashing, screaming, and there are tears running down his face, though his eyes remain closed.

"Dean!" He grabs the thrashing man by the shoulder and his eyes snap open, filled with fear. Dean is crying, and he clings close to Castiel, who wraps him in strong arms and tries to make soothing noises, though he fails. "Its okay. Come on Dean, come back." The bearded man looks up at him, eyes watery and clouded. 

Twenty minutes later finds them in Castiel's bathroom, the electric hum of a razor in the air. Castiel is grooming the younger man, trimming away his beard and long, unruly hair. Clumps of hair fall away and with each stroke the features of a very handsome man are revealed. Castiel is somewhat surprised by the chiseled jaw, masculine features, and the fact that this man who is mentally no more than a child could make him feel so inadequate. Honestly, he belongs on the front of a magazine. The shaving idea had been a last attempt to make Dean feel distanced from the place that haunted his sleep, to try and erase some of the ties to that horrible hell. Now, he turns the man toward the mirror, watching the reaction. Dean's eyes widen as he reaches a hand to touch the smooth glass. Castiel cringes a little bit at the fingerprints it will leave but remains silent. Dean cocks his head and looks at Castiel with a question in his eyes.

"That's you Dean." The cop assures, pointing back at the glass. "Thats you." Dean's eyes fill with excitement as he looks back at the mirror. He studies his own reflection thoroughly, and it's quite an entertaining scene as he traces the lines of his own face. He pulls at Castiel, bringing him into the mirror's view as well. He points at the reflection and then back at his caretaker. "And that's me." The older man can't help but give a little smile at the look of wonder that meets him. The green eyes, so filled with amazement, strike him the most.

"Lets get you back in bed Dean." The cop guides him away from the bathroom and the magic of the mirror, settling him in his bed again before moving to his own room and closing the door.

  
~~~~

  
Dean sleeps quickly and, somehow, the nightmares don't wake him again. He doesn't dream, and for the first time in God knows how long, he sleeps peacefully.

The morning brings a whole new challenge. Pain. The pain in his chest is nearly unbearable but he knows he's been through so much worse. He grits his teeth but does not make a sound. He remembers when they had done things like this before, hurt him like this before. He has the scars, mostly over his legs. They provided no pain medication, no matter what. But he also remembered the marks healing within twenty four hours. So they would be gone soon. Actually...it was taking longer than normal. Curious.

He waits, and he's not sure how long, before Castiel wanders into the kitchen. He's garbed in his unusual clothes. The older man catches sight of Dean.

"You could have woken me up, you know." He yawns. "You don't have to just sit there bored, how long have you been up?" He receives no answer, but doesn't appear bothered by it.

  
~~~~

  
Castiel understand's the younger man's silence. They didn't even know the full extent of what the guy had been through. They were still trying to crack the files, with little success.

"Do you need meds?" Dean shakes his head, not seeming to want them. Castiel approaches slowly, making sure not to frighten his charge. "I need to check your dressings, okay? Can you remove your shirt for me?" Dean nods, silent as ever, and reaches to pull it away.

Castiel sits on the edge of the sofa bed, reaching to pull away the bandages on the younger man's chest, and he would later deny that he let out a tiny gasp at how fit the man seemed to be. Nimble fingers pull the fabric away, and the cop gasps.

The stitches are gone and the slashes, as deep as they had been, appear to be nothing more than shallow cuts, nothing more than those caused by paper. Dean looks down himself, but doesn't seem at all bothered. _How is this not freaking him out???_ Castiel wonders, completely bewildered and it must show on his face because Dean gives him a look.

"We should take you in to a doctor." But Dean shakes his head wildly, pushing Castiel's hands away. But still, he does not speak. Silent as he has always been. "Dean, this is not normal," He pauses, thinking about those files at the facility. What had it been called? The Perdition Project? "Dean, did they...do anything to you?" Dean cocks his head in obvious confusion. "Did they...run tests on you?" Dean nods. "Dean how long were you there?"

The younger man holds up four fingers. "Four years?" Dean shakes his head, shoving his fingers at Castiel's face, trying to convey his message. "Four months? This answer is also greeted with furious head shaking. Suddenly, Castiel understands, and he can't help but convey the disgust on his face. "Since you were four? You've been in that place since you were _four_?" Dean nods, casting his gaze down at the anger in Castiel's voice, obviously frightened.

  
~~~~

  
Is Castiel mad at him? Did he do something wrong? Was he going to cast him out and send him back there? He didn't want to go back. Couldn't go back. Dean looked down, trying desperately not to anger the man further.

"What about your parents?" His tone is slightly more gentle now. Dean looks up hesitantly, trying to gauge the look on the older man's face. He shakes his head. "Did they...pass?" Dean isn't sure what he means by that. Pass? He furrows his brow, slightly baffled. Castiel makes an uncomfortable face. "Um...did they die?" Dean nodded at this but held up one finger. "Only one of them?" Dean nodded again. "What about the other one?" Dean once again cast his eyes down. "They sent you there?" Dean isn't sure what his tone means. He's not angry but definitely not happy.

Castiel shakes his head, obviously giving up. "Can you write?" He's met with curious eyes, questioning what that means. "Okay no. We'll find a way to communicate, okay Dean?"

It occurs to Dean that Castiel is the first person to use his real name since he was young. The first person to acknowledge that he wasn't some nameless thing.

And he's not sure how to feel about that.

  
~~~~

  
Castiel is appalled. Positively furious. The last time he had been this mad is when he was sixteen and some asshole beat tried to _hurt_ his younger sister Anna. She kicked the shit out of him and their older brother Gabriel later did the same on a much larger scale. The guy ended up in the hospital but was too scared of the Novak family to press charges.

Now, _Castiel_ wants to kick the shit out of someone. Particularly, whatever parents had put an innocent child in that horrid hell hole. How could anyone do that to their kid? Their flesh and blood?

Castiel helps Dean get his shirt back on, not bothering to replace the bandages, now useless. Then he lets Dean dress and they both get in the car, headed for the station.

What unnerves him the most is that Dean seems not at all bothered by any of this. What cruelty could have been inflicted on him that he just didn't care anymore? What horrors had he seen?

And how did he heal so quickly?


	3. Sammy?

Dean is being interrogated. Which is completely irrelevant considering he doesn't speak and he can't write but they still try to get answers out of him. He just stares wordlessly, allowing his mind to wander. Dean wonders about the other patients, if they tried to interrogate them as wll. Some of them could speak, he knows. Others could do sign language, though he had never been allowed to learn it.

"What sort of experiments did they conduct on you?" Just another pointless question like all the others. Fruitless it would be. Dean doesn't move, doesn't speak. Just stares wordlessly at the wall.

"Did they take your ability for speech?" Dean shakes his head. No. "Then do you choose not to speak?" He shakes his head again. "Then why?" No answer.

"Come on Castro. You're not gonna get anything out of him." The officer grumbles at his partner, obviously frustrated

"I know. Bring in one of the others. Give this worthless sack of shit back to Cas." Dean isn't familiar with what that term means but he has been referred to as such in the past. He might have to find out what it means from Castiel.

"Hey. Be nice. It's not his fault. You saw some of the other patients, those sons of bitches were brutal." Castro sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Yeah I know. Sorry man, I'm an asshole." Dean has heard that term too but is still not sure if its meaning.

He is lead from the room and out into the main area where Castiel stands up, gathering papers. "Alright Dean. We're gonna pay a visit to the Doctor." _But why_ Dean wonders _there's nothing wrong with me._

But he can't exactly communicate that so he goes with Castiel, following him toward the exit. Its been a long day filled with confusion and newness. He hung around almost all day until they came to interrogate him. Which had, of course, been futile.

Halfway out the door, a strange noise comes from Castiel's pocket, like a high pitch shrill of sound. Dean jumps at the sudden loudness as the other man pulls a small rectangular object from his pocket. Dean has seem them before, used by the staff at the facility. But he doesn't have a word for them.

"What the fuck do _you_ want?" Dean flinches a little at Castiel's tone, the obvious anger making him uneasy. There's a pause. "Gabe I can't discuss my job with you!" Then another pause and there's a weird look on his face. "What did he say the brother's name was?" Dean can see that Castiel isn't as mad now and relaxes a little bit himself. "I'll text you my address. Tell him to come to my house tonight at seven, okay?" Cas presses something on the device and stashes it away, looking carefully at Dean.

"Dean do you have a younger brother?" Dean cocks his head to the side but nodds. He remembered his younger brother, that little baby Sammy. Though he had never really put much thought to it after so many years in that place.

"Come on. Lets get you to the Doc," And that is that.

  
~~~~

  
Sam Winchester is furious. No, he's not just furious. He's straight up enraged. How could his father hide this from him? All these years. All this time. How could his dad never tell him he had a brother?

"He's going to be out of it. His condition affects his brain and he's incapable of proper communication or thought process." The nurse explains before allowing them in the room. But Sam just stares at the door, wondering at the scenarios that could come of crossing its threshold. Sam had demanded they go and see Dean, needing to see his brother, his flesh and blood.

John had slipped up, kept a photo of the boy in a drawer. Sam found it when he was poking around in his dad's office and forced John to explain. At first, he had tried to lie and brush the topic off. But Sam wouldn't have it.

Now, here he is, his father by his side, shifting uncomfortably. The door finally opens and there is a man beyond it. An actual person, hes real and he's there. He has a beard, which probably hasn't been groomed in years. He's strapped down to a metal table and his eyes are open but they're glassed over. Sam's breath catches on his chest.

"W-why is he tied down?" Sam asks. The nurse jumps to explain before the anger in Sam's eyes can grow.

"He had an episode. We believed he would be a danger to himself and the staff. He attacked a nurse, broke her leg." Sam can't imagine this man hurting anyone, let alone a nurse. John is obviously uncomfortable and he tugs at his collar. Dean's eyes open a little bit more, and Sam can see how that they're a brilliant green. He's mumbling something I'm a rough and low voice. Barely intelligible, Sam has to lean close to hear it.

"Dean. Dean." he repeats his own name over and over. He looks so out of it, it hurts Sam to watch. He can't do it, he turns and leaves the room in a hurry. He's seen enough.

  
~~~~

  
He and John are silent in the Impala, the scenery around them racing by. Sam just looks out the window, having no desire to face his father.

John attempts to break the silence. "Sammy. I had no choice, he's sick. It's a disease no one has seen before. This place is trying to help him." But he gets no response. Sam won't give him that. Not after all the lies and the deceit.

"I don't care. I'm going back to school in a few days anyway. Back to my fiancee and my friends. Alright? It doesn't matter." _Liar_ a small voice in his head proclaims. _You just found out you have a brother and you're claiming you don't give a shit?_ It's true. He's surprised and concerned and confused and he doesnt doesn't really want to leave but it's not because of his dad. It's because of that poor guy, locked away and completely oblivious to the world. The utter wrongness of it all does not go unnoticed.

"Fine."

  
~~~~

  
He's halfway back to school a few days later when his phone rings. He briefly glances at where it is on the passenger seat. It's his dad and he briefly considers not answering it. What could it hurt? He almost always ignores his dad's calls. But something is nagging him about it, a feeling he can't push away. So he pulls his car over on the empty highway and answers.

"Sammy you have to come back." _Gee dad. I didn't think you would miss me_

"What?" Sam asks, keeping his inner thoughts private, because he doesn't want this to end in a screaming match.

"Your brother," The phrase was foreign and made Sam shiver a little bit with it unfamiliarity. "The facility he's at was raided. He's gone, Sammy. If I had known it wasn't a legal operation I would never have sent him there you have to come back." Sam is stunned into silence.

"Did you not research the fucking place?!" He feels a sudden surge of anger and fear rising in his chest.

"Sammy. Please just come home." Its an evasion tactic, one Sam knows well.

"That's not my home." Sam manages to bite out. "But I am coming back. Not for you but for that poor guy you abandoned in that fucking place. And then I'm going back to my home. With Gabe and my friends. Got that?" He could almost hear John wince at the mention of Sam's fiancee. He had never objected to his son's bisexuality but he didn't really seem thrilled about it either.

"Alright. Fine."

  
~~~~

  
"What do you mean a few more days?" Gabe is mad, that much is clear.

"It's complicated." He groans, trying to think of a way to out it. Be settled in straight to the point. "Basically, in short, I have an older brother I never knew about who has a strange disease or deformity or whatever. And my dad sent him to a facility to get treatment but turns out the place was operating illegally and it got raided and now my brother is missing." The other end of the line is dead silent, the other man obviously trying to process the information before he finally manages to put together a coherent thought.

"Just when I thought your dad couldn't be more of an asshole." Sam has to chuckled slightly, but a thought occurs to him.

"Hey, doesn't your brother work for the Lawrence police department? Could he know something?" Gabriel sighs on the other end of the line in obvious frustration.

"Sam, you know I haven't talked to Cas in years."

"Yeah. Sorry I asked." He apologizes quickly, knowing that Gabes family is a touchy subject.

"It's okay. Hey, I have to study, alright? I'll call you later?" Sam sighed, but nodded.

"Yeah okay." They never really said I love you over the phone. It was just an unspoken truth between them. So the phone clicked with no further conversation.

  
~~~~

  
A few hours later, he's back in Lawrence, getting gas. His phone goes off and he answers.

"Hey babe, what's up?" He greets Gabriel.

"I found your brother." Sam nearly drops the phone.

"Wait, _what_?"

"I called Cas. I'll text you the address. Be there at seven tonight." Sam isn't sure what to say, knowing how hard it must have been for Gabe to do that.

"Gabe I fucking love you."

"Yes you do. Now go deal with your asshole dad and go see your long lost, mentally ill, older brother. Still really confused about that by the way." Sam chuckles a little.

"How do you think I feel? I'll talk to you later."

"Alright Sammy....I love you." But before Sam can respond, Gabe has hung up.

  
~~~~

  
Dean doesn't even flinch as the doctor prods at his mostly healed injuries. The man seems absolutely perplexed and Cas is too. Who is this guy? What did they do to him? How is any of this possible?

"Well. Its not caused by anything that they did at the lab. I've run every test imaginable and there's just nothing to indicate that they gave him anything to cause it. Aside from his white blood cell count, which is still high, everything is normal. Nothing should be causing such rapid healing." Castiel scrubs a hand over his face, casting weary eyes across the room at Dean, who's completely zoned out.

"But I do have another theory," The doctor adds. "What if his unusual traits are natural? A genetic mutation? The Perdition Project may have been looking into what caused it, maybe even trying to use it in some fashion." He glances at the man sitting in his office. "I don't know what to say, Officer Novak. He's just a different case. One I've sure as hell never dealt with."

  
~~~~

  
Outside the Doctor's office, Dean gives him a look that seems to say _I told you so_.  But Castiel doesn't bother to respond, instead opening the car door and getting inside.

The entire drive is devoted to Castiel's inner turmoil. All the questions rolling in his head won't quit. Especially after Gabriel's call. What the fuck was up with that? The guy hadn't talked to him for years then just calls up and asks about the case? _For a friend, my ass._

How could Gabriel find Dean's brother, how did he even know about the case? Of Cas's involvement? He was on the secret team. Their missions were classified.

And now he has to make his apartment not look like shit because Dean's possible brother is coming tonight. Shit.

  
~~~~

  
Sam has been sitting outside the apartment building for hours, and he even considered calling his dad. But he needs to check this out first. It could be total bullshit and Gabe didn't give specifics. He grabs his phone and checks the time and address for the hundredth time before he finally gets out and makes his way into the building and upstairs. He notices that the place is nice, not exactly five star, but nice nonetheless. He's not even sure who he's meeting.

Before he really catches up with what's going on, too absorbed in his own head to really care, he's knocking on the door. Shit.

There is a long pause and he considers just leaving, as if this whole thing never happened. Going back to school with his life and his friends and Gabe. Just letting go of this life like it never happened. But he can't because now the door is opening. A tall man with short brown hair is standing at the door, his blue eyes peering at Sam.

"Sam Winchester?" The man's voice is low and gravelly. It takes a second for Sam to find his own voice and his jaw just opens and closes soundlessly before he clears his throat.

"Um...yeah. You're Castiel, right?" He extends a hand in an attempt at a greeting and the man takes it before walking into the apartment. Sam follows hesitantly.

"He's in the living room. Though you realize we'll have to take you for a DNA test and ask you some questions." Sam nods along before they come into the living room.

Dean is fast asleep on the sofa bed, snoozing away. Castiel takes a look at his sleeping form and turns back to Sam.

"I would actually like to ask you some questions now if that's okay." Sam agrees silently as they sit down.

"Why exactly was your brother in that research facility?"

"My dad said he was sick. And when I talked to the nurses there they said that his condition affected his communication and motor skills. I saw him. He was like a zombie...so out of it."

  
~~~~

  
Castiel is confused. Dean appeared to have perfectly fine motor skills and as far as his communication, he can't speak but he can find ways to convey his message.

"Sam, did they...perform tests on your brother? Trying to cure his disease?" Castiel doesn't think that Dean is sick, but he asks anyway, a theory beginning to brew in his head.

"Well yeah. I'm not sure what, but I'm sure they did." There was another question on Castiel's mind.

"How long had he been there?" Sam tenses.

"Since our mom died. I guess he got sick a few months after that. He had just turned five." Castiel's breath catches. Pieces of the puzzle are starting to fall into place but it is a very unpleasant picture.

A noise from behind them makes both men turn. Dean is standing there, eyes wide.

"S-Sammy?"


	4. Behind Your Eyes

Dean's voice is rough and confused. His eyes are bleary with sleep, but that was definitely a word that came out of his mouth.

"Sammy?" He asks again, voice still rough but tone stronger. He stumbles toward the very tall man. "Sammy?" The repeated question is like a prayer, a hope.

Because Dean, as impossible as it may be, recognizes this man. Not as the baby brother he had said good night to, but as someone else. When he was on the hallucinogen he had seen this man. Somewhere in his world of flames he had seen this face. He had been real. Had his dad been there too? Was he real?

Even Dean could draw a simple conclusion. The man had said 'our mom.' This had to be Sammy. How could he be so tall? How could such a small baby grow into this?

"Dean?" Castiel is looking at him. This man that has showed him so much kindness. There's fear in his eyes. That's an emotion Dean is all too familiar with. Fear, terror even, has graced his own features countless times.

But that doesn't really matter because Dean takes a step and his foot doesn't seem to land correctly and suddenly he's being held up by Sammy. He looks up, eyes filled with a mixture of sleep, relief, and confusion.

"Sammy." It's not a question anymore. It's a statement. A joyful realization. His brother. He's here. He's here...

  
~~~~

  
Sam is confused. And angry. And fucking ready to punch something. Specifically, his dad, who lied to him. _Again_. Dean isn't sick. He's not that guy that Sam had seen in that facility. This is someone else entirely.

Except right now he's passed out in Sam's arms. Castiel rushes to help get the guy back on the bed, and once that's accomplished, turns back to Sam.

"Well. As far as things have been going lately, that was pretty eventful." Castiel turns serious eyes at Sam. "He refuses to speak to anyone, and then you show up. He knew you, Sam. Is there something you're not telling me?" The funny thing is, Sam has been completely honest and he himself is confused as to why and how Dean recognized him.

"N-no. I told you all I know." He stared at Dean. "I'm gonna kick my dad's ass. That fucking liar. I saw him! I saw him, they probably had him on a shit ton of drugs." Sam is guilty. Fuck, is he guilty. How could he have been so stupid? So naive? After all the lies his dad has told, hell he practically lies for a living. How could he have let himself believe for even a second that his dad was telling the truth? How could he think he could just go back to school? Like none of this ever happened. No matter what he does, he can't get away from his dad and this life.

But now Dean's awake again, having only been out for a few minutes. He's just staring at Sam.

"Sammy." He smiles. It's the only word he's spoken since Sam arrived. And no one ever calls him Sammy besides Gabriel and his dad. But what hits him is that this guy remembers Sammy. That little baby. That child who he kissed goodnight. He doesn't even remember him asking to be called Sam. Growing up and trying to abandon the things that made him weak. Because his dad was a hard ass and his uncle Bobby was the only person who actually seemed to give a shit about him. Is this man, this Dean, anything more than a child? He never got to grow up. He never was allowed to grow and prosper like that. He was stuck in that place.

And their father put him there.

It is not often that Sam experiences rage like this but he can't help it. Cas taps him gently on the shoulder and whispers.

"See if you can get him to say anything else." Sam nods and sits on the sofa bed next to Dean.

"I didn't know. I didn't know you were there, I'm so sorry." He looks down, genuine shame in his eyes.

  
~~~~

  
Why is Sammy sad? What happened? Dean looks at him, confused. Sorry? What does that mean?

"S-sorry?" He manages to choke out. Sam looks up at him. "W-what does th-that mean?" His voice is quakey and unsure. He's not even sure why, but some barrier has been broken by seeing his brother. The look on Sammy's face is enough to set a weird feeling in his stomach.

"You don't know what sorry means?" Sam asks. And Dean can't quite interpret his tone or his facial expression. He nods.

  
~~~~

  
Disgust. Cas can see it on Sam's face. Pure digust. He's mad but most of all, he's appalled. Which is not so different from Castiel's own mood right now.

What had they done to him? How had they treated him? So badly that he didn't even know what an apology was?

And it kind of hits a nerve in Castiel. He realizes how completely like a child Dean really is. He doesn't know this world, the intricacies of it, social rules, boundaries, laws, he doesn't even know what sorry means. He's a kid, a little kid.

"Dean. Look at me, okay? We're gonna help you. We're gonna make sure that those sick bastards get what they deserve." Castiel states. And Dean seems to remember that he's there and looks up, eyes shining with...hope. And happiness.

"Cas-" He breathes. "-tiel." Castiel smiles, because despite how fucked up all of this is, the look in Dean's eyes gives him hope. He's gonna make sure those bastards go to prison for what they did. But not before he gets answers.

"Sam. I'm going to the police station, watch after him will you?" Its not a negotiable statement. Cas is going to talk to one of the staff from that wretched place. Now.

  
~~~~

  
Sam opens his mouth to say something but there's a look in Castiel's eyes that makes him stop. Determination mixed with anger.

The cop rushes around, grabbing stuff and not even acknowledging the fact that all of this is absurd.

But Sam doesn't dare interrupt a man on a mission. He just wraps his arms around Dean, around his brother, who's shivering and shaking.

Dean eventually sleeps, and Sam is just trying to process everything

  
~~~~

  
The man scoffs as he looks up. Cas sits and stares at him for a moment before opening a file.

"So. We can't find you in any database but they say you like to be called Alastair. My name's officer Novak." Alastair grins, his teeth disgusting. He doesn't even look like a scientist, unkempt and skinny.

"Heh." Alastair chuckles, looking up with crazy eyes. "You here to ask about the Dean boy?" His voice drawls and it makes Castiel want to rip his eyes out. "Or maybe one of the other patients?" Cas really wants to claw his eyes out. So bad. He can't even pinpoint why, but he really does.

"Why was he labeled as John Doe?" Thats been nagging at Castiel for a while. After they found Dean, Cas was informed that he had a tattoo on the back of his leg that has information about him. He hasn't seen it yet, but he knows it's there. Alastair chuckles again, that dark sound.

"Ask a nurse, they understand it more than I ever will." He grinned that ugly grin and Castiel found his fists clenching and unclenching.

"What were you doing to him?" Another nagging question.

"Not what we were doing to him, what we were doing for him. Poor guy. Lost his mom, his dad was a wreck, a drunk. We were watching him and his other son for years. Abusive, verbally mostly. We saved him." He didn't even flinch when Cas's hand banged on the table.

"You tortured him!" He flipped pictures out of the file. The pictures were of the slashes all over Dean's chest. "You did this to him!" Alastair smiled. This is what he wants. He's trying to frustrate Castiel.

"I think it's only fair. You asked me questions, I get to ask you some. Are you the one who pulled him out of there? I saw him clinging to you. Like a little kid. Because that's what he is. So was that actually you?" His tone is mocking in a way that only stokes Castiel's rage.

"Yes." He says through gritted teeth, and he hates that this is affecting him. That something so small could make him so angry.

"Tell me, is he staying with you?" Castiel only nodded, not willing to show this man anymore weakness. "Then you're already dead," Alastair leaned forward. "He is warped, and dangerous. This meek thing you see? Its all an act. He's more of a demon than I have ever been." Castiel has to leave before the man ends up with a broken jaw.

  
~~~~

  
"Sammy." Dean's eyes open, but Sammy's are closed. He eases away from the taller man, covering him with a blanket. Even after so long in that place, he knew the importance of warmth. In a place so cold and lonely, warmth was a treasure. Any semblance of warmth he could find was a pleasure. A feeling to be savored.

He remembered once, he had been allowed into a common area. He didn't know how old he had been at the time. It was the first time they allowed him to socialize, rather than be isolated away. He remembered a girl, they called her Jane, but who knows if that was her real name. He had been sitting in a corner, unsure of how to act, when she came up to him. She had kneeled by him and placed her hand on his knee. He remembers the warmth that spread from that hand. He remembers grabbing her hand and pulling her close, just to feel more of that warmth. He had been pulled away from her and never allowed into the common area again.

He watches Sammy now, wondering if he's felt warmth. Or has his life been cold too? Did their father treat him coldly as he had to Dean? Had their father even raised him? Was he even still alive?

Now that Dean reflected, he had seen a certain pain in Sammy's features. He knew about pain, had felt it all his life. He knew about the look in Sammy's eyes.

He had also seen the look of fear in Castiel's. But he had also noticed how the man carried himself, as if a part of him had been ripped away. Like his life had been stolen and given back, though forever changed.

Dean didn't like seeing that look.


	5. Nightmares

A week. It has been a week since the mission. And Castiel is losing it. Alastair isn't cracking, Dean won't talk to anyone but Sam, and Castiel is still trying to convince his boss to let him go back to regular work.

"I'm a cop, not some special agent."

"Well boohoo kid, this is your assignment so deal with it." The senior officer growled. "I don't have time for this, okay?"

"Like you never have time for anything? You are barely even involved in this place. You make all of these decisions but you're not ever around to see them come to fruition." The man glared at Castiel.

"I would shut my mouth of I were you Castiel." Then that was that.

  
~~~~

  
"Come on Dean. We have to." Sam put his hand on Dean's knee.

"Why?" The older brother asked, obviously furious.

"We just do. Alright?"

"But...Castiel?"

"He'll be fine. But we have to go. Alright? Dad got into some trouble and I can't leave you here. We're gonna take you to our uncle's house. Alright?" Dean shakes his head.

"No."

"Dean we don't have time for this. Come on." He grabbed at the older man but he snapped away, dashing to the other side of the room.

"I want to stay!" It was The most complete sentence he had formed in a week. "I want to stay with Castiel!"

"Dean you are being a fucking child!" Dean crossed his arms, somehow managing to look absolutely terrifying. "You know what? Fine! I'm not arguing with you. Stay here, I don't give a rat's ass."

But he does. Because this is his brother, someone he's been separated from for the entire life he can remember. This is a part of him he never got to have. A piece that's been missing for too many years. So he does give a rats ass. He does care. And he doesn't really want to go leaping to his dad's rescue but he has no choice. He's never had a choice.

But maybe this is best. Maybe Dean will be safe here, far away from The Life. Sam has tried to pull himself away from it too, but with no luck. He always gets sucked back in because once this is your life, its your life until you die. He doesn't want that for Dean, this poor guy. He doesn't need to see the horrors of all the monsters and the ghosts and demons. He can be normal. All Sam has to do is walk away. Just walk out the door and not come back, not ever.

So he nods, turns on his heel and snatches his coat from a chair before walking out the front door. A tear threatens to fall but he blinks it away, denying it was ever even there.

 

~~~~

  
When Castiel comes home, Sam isn't there. Dean is sitting on the couch staring at his hands. And when he looks up his eyes are lost.

"Sam's gone." It's so clear that Castiel blinks in astonishment. "He left, something about our dad. I guess he got into some trouble. Sam wanted me to come with him but I said no." Castiel blinks again, utterly lost for words. Dean sees the look on his face and continues. "I wanted to stay here, you make me feel safe. You took me from that place and I'm grateful for that. So I stayed."

"Dean...I...I don't know what to say." Because it's as if something has been completely changed in that broken man he pulled from that place. In just a week away from it, Dean is someone different. Stronger, or maybe just harder, more stone than man because he thinks he has to be. Dean looks back down at his hands.

"I want to learn. I want to see this world for what it is. Can you show me?"

"Dean...of course."

  
~~~~

  
"Dad?" Sam asks, looking at the man. "I have to talk to you."

His dad looks up, and his eyes are so tired. He had been hunting for the last few days, but he's back now.

"What is it Sammy?" The man asks, patting the beat up couch.

Sam doesn't sit. "You lied. Dean was never sick. He was perfectly fine, he didn't belong in that place."

"Sam, what are you talking about?" His face is troubled, and he leans forward.

"I found him Dad. I found him and he is nothing like the Dean we saw in that place. He talks and he's cheerful and he's like a child really. They treated him so badly, I've seen the pictures. So tell me, why the fuck did you lie?" It seems that John's eyes widen with each word.

"Sam...I didn't lie. He was sick, I swear!" Sam looks at him in the eyes, searching. Trying to look for something hidden in their depths.

"Maybe. But you still left him there." Sam stands up. "And you're welcome for helping you out of that windego situation by the way. Guess you need my help after all." He shakes his head. "I'm done, alright? I'm going back to school. I'm done with this whole thing. And I'm not telling you where Dean is because he is safe and happy and he is not gonna get pulled into this life. If it can even be called that."

  
~~~~

  
Castiel wakes up to screaming. Dean. He stands by the entrance to the living room, where Dean is thrashing. "No! No!" Castiel moves in slowly, placing a sure hand on Dean's shoulder. The younger man stills, his breathing quickening still.

"Dean. Wake up. Its not real, it's not real." He's surprised as arms wrap around him, and the Dean trembles against him. Even after six months away from the facility, he has nightmares. He's never told Castiel about them and the cop doesn't pry. His eyes are open now.

"Cas. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He whimpers, his eyes closing again, seeminly in fear.

"Dean? Why are you sorry?"

"I hurt them. I hurt her. I hurt them and I don't even know why. I hated them, and I wanted them to feel my pain. I'm worse than them." He sobs fully now, grasping to Castiel tightly. The sentences are almost indecipherable and there's something so intense about the tear drops currently staining Cas's t shirt.

"Hurt who Dean?" The brunette looks up again, fingers clinging desperately to Castiel.

"The nurses, the staff. I hurt them so many times." His green eyes are filled with a pain unlike any that Castiel has ever seen.

"Dean it's not your fault. They hurt you. So you hurt them back, that's okay. You were trying to save yourself. That's okay."

The reassurance is enough to quiet Dean's sobs And he relaxes a little bit.

"I want to talk to Alastair. I have to." Even after six months, the man hasn't spoken a word about the operations at the Perdition Project. Castiel shakes his head.

"Dean, I can't do that."

"Yes you can Castiel. Please. I haven't slept a full night since I got here. His...his face is stuck in my head." Castiel sighs, running a hand through Dean's hair. Both of them seem surprised by the gesture but Dean seems to lean into the touch. "Please Cas." The nickname rolls of his tongue like a foreign dialect. But he seems to like it because he smiles.

"I'll see. But I'm not making promises, alright?"

"Alright."

"Good night Dean."

"Good night."

  
~~~~

  
When Castiel exits the room, Dean lays back down, taking a breath of the room. The smell of the apartment has become so comforting. There's the now familiar aroma of ink and paper and books almost constantly. Dean can't read, he's learning to, but he prefers to listen to Castiel read to him. He enjoys it, the gravelly voice of Castiel has been a comfort since the first day it touched his tortured ears.

Since Dean left the Perdition Project, he's found comfort in many places. In darkness, in silence. But most of all, he finds comfort in Castiel. The older man is so extravagantly different from the small, petite nurses or the clean, almost barbaric male doctors. Castiel is...nice, caring, he's personal to Dean. He's not cold and distant like the staff at the facility.

Dean remembers his first night. When he woke up screaming, from a dream much like the one he had just experienced. Castiel had held him close and then helped him into the bathroom. He had shown such care as he shaved Dean. He was so gentle.

The sterile smell of the facility still lingers. Sterile and yet at the same time, old. Like rotting wood. He thinks that it won't ever leave him. Neither will the images, the screams he heard almost constantly from other parts of the facility. He remembers it, everything in such sharp detail. He hates it, he doesn't want it.

But this dream, it was different. And that's what scares him. Because he can still feel it like it was real. The bones cracking under his fist, the repetitive crunch as he punched over and over and over and he hates it. Even if it wasn't real, the guilt is immense. The image of Castiel's face, swollen and bloody from his own fists, is much too vivid in his mind. Much too real, and he wants to curl into a ball and hide. He hurt so many people, what could keep him from hurting Castiel? From hurting the man who had saved him from that place? The first person to show Dean kindness and compassion? Who would stop him from hurting people?

What were they looking for? He knows that answer lies with Alastair. He knows he has to talk to him, find out the truth. Maybe then he'll be able to sleep at night, maybe begin to feel more at ease in this strange world.

Hours go by, but nothing happens. He can't sleep, can't calm down. So he gets up and goes to the fridge, searching for leftover pie. Castiel introduced him to the pastry and he can't seem to get enough, it's sweet and this particular pie is apple. He pulls the tin out and a beer. Beer is new too, but there's something enjoyable about it. He grabs a fork, and sits to eat it, the kitchen illuminated only by a small night light.

He sighs into the empty room, and the still is peaceful. Peace is the newest and most foreign concept to him. Of all the things he's seen in a short six months, peace is so different. Quiet is an oddity, and he finds so much tranquility in it.

Yes, he likes peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably a pile of crap. I have had no motivation or energy lately. I've been really sick and I've missed a lot of classes so I'm failing and I've been trying to improve my grades before the semester ends. Writing isn't exactly my top priority at the moment so this and my other stories may take a while to update. I will try to be more frequent and release longer chapters but I don't have a lot of time to edit so it will take time. I am sorry but there are certain things that are out of my control and I am trying my best.


	6. Locked Files

Sam dropped out of school. Everything had happened so fast and he was kinda lost. He didn't do much, and he considered hunting for a while but it didn't hold the appeal. After a few years at college, the idea left a bad taste in his mouth.

So now, here he is. Crashed at Bobby's house helping answer phones and keep things orderly. Which is surprisingly hard at first, but he gets into the groove eventually.

"Sam. Your old man was telling the truth, he thought Dean was sick." This isn't the first time this conversation has come up and Sam knows it won't be the last.

"Bobby. Not today...please."  He begs, looking down at his breakfast, yet untouched.

"I'm just saying. Your old man-"

"Lied to me. For twenty one years of my life, he lied to me. He carted me around and raised me into this...perfect hunter. And I was so alone. The only child of the great John Winchester. So I'm angry Bobby. But now, Gabriel..." He looks down, his voice choked on the thought. He clears his throat. "Did I ever show you the physical evidence of what they did to him?" He pulls out his phone and opens his pictures. He had managed to sneak into Castiel's files when he was away and get the pictures.

He practically throws the device across the table to Bobby, who picks it up. He lets out a gasp of surprise at the images, the great slashes all down the man's chest. And there are scars across his stomach, his arms, and those are only the ones in the picture.

"Sam I-"

"They tortured him Bobby. The file says he has scars on over forty percent of his body, mainly his legs. They almost killed him. And for what? Why?"

Bobby hands him the phone back and he stands up to leave.

"Sam..."

"No Bobby. Enough."

 

~~~~

 

Castiel is sad. Dean can see it in his eyes. He's so sad. And Dean cant pinpoint why, why that look is in his eyes. He won't even look at Dean, no matter how much he speaks or tries to distract him.

So he takes drastic measures.

Castiel is working at his computer when Dean pokes his shoulder.

"Not now Dean." He tries to wave him away, only to gasp in surprise as the man crawls on his lap. Dean blocks the computer screen and places his hands on Castiel's shoulders.

"You've been ignoring me for the past week. Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Dean! What are you doing?!" Castiel tries to shove him away but Dean is stronger, his grip strengthening.

"Getting your attention, what's wrong with it?"

"This isn't normal Dean!" Castiel is reminded of the fact that Dean still isn't familiar with social norms and what's acceptable and not acceptable, even after six months.

"Tell me." Dean looks into his eyes. "You're sad, why?"

"Get off of me first." Dean shakes his head.

"Not until you tell me." Anger grows in Castiel's eyes. He doesn't know what he's doing until he yells.

"My brother is dead. Alright? My brother Gabriel died. And I didn't even know about it for three months. He's been dead for three months and my family never told me. I didn't even get invited to the funeral." Castiel looks away, because he can't face Dean. Not with him so close. The pressure on him is lifted and he sees a look in Dean's eyes, but it's not pity. Its...something else

"I'm sorry." Dean says. "That's ...I shouldn't have harassed you about it." Dean studies his caretaker carefully. "That's it." He whispers. Castiel gives him a look of confusion. "Since I came here, I've seen a look in your eyes. Sadness. Like you had lost a part of yourself. I saw that in some of the other patients. Your family outcast you? Like mine did?"

Castiel looks away again, if only to blink away a tear. Because dammit, Dean is _right._ "Why?"

"Its complicated." Castiel stands up, aware of Dean following him.

"This entire world is complicated. All the different rules and regulations, it's confusing." Dean plops on the couch, looking up at Castiel expectantly. The cop doesn't sit though. Dean doesn't seem to mind it, he just continues. "Did you love him? Your brother? Were you close?"

"No. No, we weren't close. I've barely talked to him, not for years." The older man grabs a beer from the fridge and sits at the kitchen table, looking at Dean.

"But you're still sad?"

"He was still my brother." Dean nods in understanding. "Can we stop talking about this? Please?" Dean once again nods.

"I uh...talked to Chuck, my boss. He's kind of a dick to be honest. But he said he would consider your request." Dean nodded, happy that Castiel had remembered the previous night's discussion.

They slip into a comfortable silence. Dean looks down at his hands, studying them. Surprisingly, moments like this are common in the cop's apartment. Dean has pretty much set up permanent shop on Castiel's couch bed, but it's comfortable enough. Castiel doesn't often have time to spend with Dean, always busy with one thing or another. So it's nice to sit in silence sometimes. No crazy work, no interrogations. Its nice to relax.

Both jump out of their skin when Castiel's cell phone rings. Dean doesn't think he'll ever get used to that.

"What?...How do you know about that?.... Chuck will have my ass if I let you....Fine, twenty minutes." Dean looks up. "We still haven't cracked your files. My friend is coming to help, off the record. Chuck will probably kill me for doing this."

And so, twenty minutes later, a red head comes bursting into the room, not even bothering to knock on the front door. "Just show me to a computer. Ten minutes, that's all it'll take." She looks at Dean, smiling.

"Charlie. You're good, but not that good. It's been six months and we still can't crack it."

"Watch me."

She heads straight for the computer, sitting down. The files are open and she begins typing away.

"Oh. This is simpler than I thought. Still ten minutes though." She turns back to furiously typing, her hands flying over the keyboard. Dean gives Castiel a questioning look. 'Just wait' the cop mouths, both of them are afraid to interrupt the intense woman.

"Oh holy...Cas come here." Charlie's voice is concerned. Castiel makes his way over, and Dean fights the urge to go see as well.

"Fuck..."

 

~~~~

 

Castiel can't breathe. There are pictures in the file Charlie has broken, pictures of a nurse. Her leg is broken, according to the file. She's bruised and bloody, her nose and face is swollen. There's information under it.

_'The subject has shown increased aggression towards his caretaker in response to continued usage of incorrect names. As predicted, the subject reacted violently when confronted with a repeated fearful situation. To test if fear hinders his regenerative capabilities, we have administered a drug that stimulates the amygdala, the fear center of the brain, along with a heavy hallucinogen._

_The subject's strength, while already exceptional, seems to increase incredibly when coupled with adrenaline. The subject's fight or flight reflex is primarily fight.'_

There are hundreds of more entries like it, this is just the most recent, and a picture of the tattoo on the back of Dean's leg in black ink

**Name: Doe, John**  
**Sex: Male**  
**DOB: Unknown**  
**Realtives: Unknown**  
**Subject Number: 6532**  
**The Perdition Project**

And then, there, at the top of the file

**Name: Doe, John**  
**Age: Approximately 25**  
**DOB: Unknown**  
**Realtives: Unknown**  
**Status: Uncertain**

Castiel thinks he might throw up. There are pages and pages of notes on Dean, but the cop can't look at them anymore.

"Close it Charlie. I'll send it to my boss later." He has to look away from the pictures, the horrors that lie within that file.

There are suddenly strong arms around him, holding him close. Dean.

"You're stressed. I'm sorry." And Castiel wants to pull away, he does. But he finds himself slowly relaxing into the touch. It feels nice, secure.

Charlie clears her throat. "Do I need to leave you two alone?" Castiel suddenly rips away from Dean, remembering where he is and realizing what he was doing. He glares at Charlie but she just smiles. "What? I don't judge." She holds her hands up in innocence.

"Goodbye Charlie." The older man shoots her a look as he says it. She smiles

"Okay, okay. I know when I'm not wanted. I have a LARP thing to get to anyway. I still think you should join us sometime." She smiles at Dean. "You too."

When she leaves, Dean stares out the door after her.

"She's not into you." Castiel says, turning to the kitchen to root for snacks. Dean tilts his head. "She likes girls." This seems to bewilder the younger man, judging by the look on his face. "Oh. You don't know what being gay is. Ugh, I am not qualified to handle this conversation."

"Gay?" Dean asks, letting the word roll off his tongue awkwardly.

"When a man and a man or a woman and a woman have...relationships like a man and a woman do. Falling in love and stuff."

"Oh okay." And once again, as he has been a lot for the last six months, Castiel is floored by how well Dean just rolls with everything. He just accepts it and moves on, doesn't even ask questions, he does that with a lot of things. Castiel thinks maybe it's because he's been so tortured in his life up until now that he's been desensitized to things like that.

"What do you want for dinner?" Cas asks, quickly moving to more important subjects. Dean's face lights up.

"Pie?"

"Dean. For the last time, just pie is not a meal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am no longer failing my classes (yay!) and with Winter break coming up I should be able to write and edit more so hopefully I can do that for you guys. I'm still in poor health but I'm getting there, slowly but surely. Thank you all for your comments and encouragement, they really make my day.


	7. A Sleepless Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is just a tiny little addition. Not extremely relevant to the plot but a nice little start to the budding feelings between our boys. It's finals week and I have a crap ton of tests to study for, so I just sorta wrote this while I was making my coffee. Enjoy!

Dean's dreams are different tonight. There's no blood, no screaming. He's not hurting anyone. There's just the feeling of soft breath, barely understood whispers. He feels safe, and warm, and a gravelly voice is in his ears but he doesn't mind it. He can feel strong arms, holding him close, keeping him sane, keeping him safe. He relaxes into that touch like a man starved. He craves it so, that feeling of happiness and security. He whispers back, his fingers digging into the clothed arm of his protector, his guardian angel, begging him to stay.

"Castiel..."

Dean wakes slowly, naturally, remembering the feeling. A dream, so anchored in reality. Over the past six months, he's often reflected on the night of his rescue. So much terror given way to calm. To Castiel. It was so vastly different from the fear he had almost constantly harbored inside his chest, the feeling of tightness that hadn't seemed to fade over all the years of his imprisonment. But when Cas saved him, held him tight and pulled him out of the Perdition Project, it was suddenly gone.

Dean lays awake, contemplating his dream. It was almost like a flashback to that night, how gentle Castiel had been. But it was different, blurry and filled with more emotion. As he thought about it, his heartbeat quickened, if only for a split second. It startled him in a familiar way, a bewilderment as he had often experienced when he discovered something new, some foreign concept.

"Castiel." He whispers to the empty room. He found the name strange when first he heard it. Nowadays, he often shortened it to Cas. But the man's given name was more elegant, different, unique. At the facility, they were all referred to as John or Jane, their individuality and identity pulled away from them and replaced by lies and pain.

He closes his eyes, slows his breathing, and just listens to the quiet that surrounds him. It's nice. "Castiel." He whispers again, somehow enjoying the awkward way it rolls off of his tongue.

 

~~~~

 

Castiel can't sleep. There's no particular reason, just purely that his brain won't turn off. Those images from the file bounce inside his brain for a while, then his mind jumps to all the employees they had interrogated. Three of the ten they had detained committed suicide, one with a bedsheet in his cell, another with a piece of glass they weren't sure how she obtained, and the other didn't eat, hiding her food in her cell until she eventually died of starvation.

Later still, his mind wanders to that night, finding Dean. The way the man looked so vulnerable, so terrified, malnourished, unshaven, and unloved. But Dean now...he talks. He talks to Castiel and he's got more meat on his bones. He doesn't smile or laugh an awful lot, but neither does Cas really. His charge is relaxed around the house in a way that Castiel is familiar with. This place has become his haven, the place where he felt he belonged after so long in a place he didn't.

Castiel finds that relaxing himself, that he could offer such assurance to Dean. The man is sweet, still childlike. The curiosity with which he approaches the world is refreshingly different.

Finally, he gives up, and he gets out of bed, intending to go make himself tea. He pads down the hall in his socks, careful to be quiet so he won't wake Dean. He reaches the entrance to the living room and hears it.

"Castiel..." He thinks he's been discovered but he notices the way he says it, sleepily. He's saying it in his sleep. He freezes, listening, and ignores the feeling of intruding on a private moment. 

There's silence for a few long minutes and Castiel has to remember to breathe, trying to be quiet.

"Castiel." It's more certain now, a statement, not a question. Dean is awake but still doesn't know he's there. Another long pause.

"Castiel." It's joyful now, like a realization. Castiel takes that as a cue to retreat, being as silent as possible as he goes back up to bed.

As he lays in bed, tea forgotten, sleep still doesn't come. 


	8. Movie Night

That morning comes bright with the first snow of the season. Castiel was staring out the kitchen window at the softly falling flakes, coffee in hand, when he heard Dean stir on the couch.

"Dean, come here!" He called behind him, not taking his eyes off the outside. He heard heavy footsteps and felt the man behind him. "Have you ever seen snow Dean?" He looks back and his question is answered by the bewilderment on the man's face.

"Not since I was little, and I don't really remember." He moves closer behind Cas, too entranced to realize their close vicinity. He snakes an arm around Cas to touch the glass, and the cop feels his chest constrict at the lack of personal space. Dean is pressed against his back, staring at the winter outside.

"Um...Dean?" The younger man seems to snap out of it.

"Yeah?"

"You're...really close." Dean tilts his head in confusion.

"Is there something wrong with it?" Cas has tried time and time again to explain personal space to Dean, but that seems to be a concept he just can't grasp. But he is very cold, and the warmth the other man provides is... _no!_

"Yes. Please back up!" Dean jumps at the sudden ferocity in his voice, automatically taking several steps away.

"I-I'm sorry..." Castiel knows his mistake instantly.

"No. Dean, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just on edge is all." He reaches a hand to place on the man's arm, a reassuring gesture. Dean relaxes instantly.

"Okay."

 

~~~~

 

As the days go by, Dean experiences more snow. And learns that Christmas is coming up soon. He remembers christmas, only faintly. The world seems to have shifted even further, with decor and songs and snow filling every bit of open space.

Castiel seems to change too, he's happier somehow, less on edge all of the time.

Dean decides that he hates snow because it's pretty, but it's cold. And it's slippery, which he discovered at the same time he discovered ice outside the apartment building. Cas had laughed while Dean scowled at him from his place on the ground. Trying to get up had led to laughter from both sides as he tried to get his legs under him like a newborn horse.

The days slipped into a monotonous routine, not that either minded it. Dean's request to see Alastair was denied over and over until he told Castiel to stop trying. Dean was learning to read and write, though Castiel was a shit teacher. Charlie came around a lot, worked with Dean on his alphabet and reading. He was improving at a fast pace, ever devoted to his learning.

Then Charlie introduced him to porn.

"Okay, Cas is at work, so you and I are gonna have a little lesson." She pulled out her laptop. "Consider this sex ed." She rummaged around through her downloads. "Okay here's one."

It was lesbian porn, and Dean, of course, had no idea what he was getting into.

It started out with a woman crying because her boyfriend broke up with her while her best friend consoled her. And what better way to make someone feel better about being newly single than by eating them out?

Their 'lesson' consisted of gay porn, lesbian porn, straight porn. Mostly vanilla stuff, and Dean was experiencing very unusual sensations from it, and Charlie laughed the whole time.

When they watched the gay porn, Dean was harder than he thought possible. Charlie looked from him to the bulge in his pants, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Oh my god." She laughed out loud. "Seriously though, that's gross. Go take a shower and get rid of that." Dean tilted his head.

"Get rid of?" Charlie blushed.

"Oh shit. I am not prepared for this."

 

~~~~

 

Castiel came home to Charlie and Dean on the couch, watching a movie on her laptop.

"What are you watching?" He asked, setting his bag down. Charlie turned her head.

"The first Harry Potter movie. Dean is learning." Castiel tilted his head.

"Never heard of it. What's it teaching?" Charlie looked personally offended.

"Okay, I get that you're some cop who grew up in a shitty family but you've never even _heard_ of Harry Potter?!" Castiel shrugged, trying his best to ignore the family comment. He had known Charlie for a few years now, but he never told her the full story about his family. Only that they weren't good people to him or his siblings.

"Okay. Here's what's gonna happen. First of all, we need popcorn and beer, then, we're all gonna sit on this very uncomfortable couch bed and watch these movies from the beginning."

"Pie." Dean added, matter-of-factly. Castiel shook his head and chuckled lowly.

"Coming right up."

 

~~~~

 

Castiel passed out first, then Charlie. But Dean just paused the movie once they were both out, checking the time. Two AM. It had been somewhere around eight when they started and they were a little bit over halfway into the third movie. Charlie was between him and Castiel, her head lolling to the side. Castiel, on her other side, had flipped on his stomach, snoring away. Dean smiles at the two, and it occurs to him that this is the happiest he's been for two decades. Right here, with his friends. Watching movies he doesn't understand and laughing about jokes he doesn't fully grasp, but he laughs anyway, because he knows they're funny.

He's happy. He's truly overjoyed to be right where he is. He reaches down and grabs the blanket, pulling it over the other two before carefully rising from the bed and going to the kitchen, taking their empty popcorn bowl and beer bottles and pie tin. He puts the bowl in the sink, running a bit of water into it, then throws the bottles and the pie tin away.

"Hey." Dean nearly jumps out of his skin and whirls toward the voice. Castiel throws his hands up. "Just me. Didn't mean to startle you." Dean relaxes. "Thanks for doing that." He nods at the sink. "Charlie is obsessed with those kinds of things."

Castiel crosses the tile floor, it's dim in the kitchen and he tries not to slip or step on anything. "You know. Your adaptability is astounding. You just take everything as it comes, even Charlie and her insistence on watching movies about witches and wizards and guys without noses." Both laugh a little at that.

"Pays to be adaptable. That's how I survived." It slips before Dean even realizes what he said.

"What?" Dean shakes his head, looking down.

"Its nothing. Forget I said it." Castiel grabs Dean's chin, forcing him to look up.

"Tell me. Its not nothing." Dean sighs.

"Sometimes...they would test us. We wouldn't know when. They would...make conditions. Like another patient being treated badly, and then monitor your response. If it was agressive or indifferent or whatever. And if you didn't respond how they wanted you were thrown in a cell without food for days. I had to adapt, to know what they wanted from me." Castiel released his chin, a sad look on his face.

"They did that to you?" Dean nodded, bending down to pull up his pant legs. Scars. Up and down, zig zagging over him. Castiel had seen the pictures but the real thing was...much worse. Another question occurred to him.

"What about the ones on your chest? They didn't leave scars?" Dean shrugged.

"I don't know. They did a lot of things to me in that place. I...when I was younger. Sixteen maybe, I don't know, they let me out into the common area. I met a girl there, I hugged her. That was the first human contact I had that wasn't hostile. It was warm, she was warmth. They pulled us apart and I never saw her again." Dean looked at the wall, past Castiel. His eyes were watering ever so slightly but he blinked the tears away.

"Dean..." Castiel placed a hand on his arm. "That's horrible."

"Not so horrible. I spent my entire life being treated that way. No affection, no love, no identity. John Doe. They called me that for two decades. They wanted me to feel alone, isolated, wanted to cut me off from myself. From who I was." Castiel's hand moved up his arm, to his shoulder.

"Dean look at me. Please."

Green eyes turned to meet blue. Castiel caressed Dean's face.

"You are not a John Doe. You are Dean. You are not nameless, you are a person. You're not some object, some subject to be used and treated hatefully." His eyes were soft, filled with...something Dean couldn't determine. Couldn't decipher.

"Castiel...thank you. You have been my guardian angel since the second I left that place." The angel smiled.

"Maybe."

The angel and the saved soul. Standing in a darkened kitchen, one leaning into the other's touch. A broken man, two broken men. Standing together in the silence.

"Dean." Castiel moved close, so incredibly close. They were mere inches apart from one another. Then something changed in Castiel's eyes and he jumped away, like something had bitten him. "I'm sorry-"

Dean lunged forward, grabbing hold of Castiel's face, and their lips crashed together in a moment of confusion and passion.

It didn't last, Castiel pulled away almost instantly, after he realized what had happened.

"Dean! You can't...that's not..." He turned away. "Charlie!" He rushed out to the living room, shaking the red head awake. She startled, her eyes opening. "K-keep Dean here. Please. Keep him here." Then he grabbed his coat and ran out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dodges fruit being thrown at my head* I REGRET NOTHING


	9. Night's Icy Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be honest, this chapter was a trip to write. So enjoy

Castiel just goes. He gets in his car and just goes, drives away from the complex and what just happened. His heart is beating out of his chest. Dean...how did he even know to do that? He's like a little kid, he doesn't know anything about romance or love or sex. Castiel has to admit that he's attracted to the man, but he can't take advantage of that. Dean is his charge, his responsibility. He doesn't know what he's doing.

So Castiel drives in that shitty beat up car. He just drives, keeps going until he's far away. And then he pulls over and grabs his phone, pulling it out and dialing a number he didn't think he ever would. It rings for a few seconds. Its snowing outside.

"Hello?" The familiar voice comes loud and clear. Castiel's face goes blank. He didn't think this through. Why did he do this?

"Michael?" He asks, trying to keep the tremor from his voice.

"Who is this?"

"It's...it's Castiel." There's a pause and Cas expects the other man to hang up, or maybe cuss him out. But there's no beep to signal the call being ended. Or screaming in his ear. There's just silence.

"Cassie?" Castiel cringes at the nickname, but some of the tension that's been building up inside him releases.  "Oh my god Castiel." He sounds...relieved. "Oh my god you're okay."

"Michael? What?" The younger brother asks, quite obviously confused.

"You haven't talked to us since you were sixteen Castiel. Eleven years and we never knew if you were okay." This befuddled Castiel even further.

"Gabriel talked to me six months ago."

There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Dad kicked him out a year after you left. How is he?"

The reality comes crashing down on top of Castiel like a ton of bricks. He can't breathe, he can't think. "Cas?" He shakes his head. _No no no._ "Cas!" The man explodes like a nuclear bomb, emotion clouding his judgement as his vision goes red.

"He's dead! Michael, he's fucking dead!" The man on the other end's breath catches. "I thought you guys didn't tell me because you didn't want me there! I found out from a friend of his!" Castiel is hyperventilating. "Dad's a bastard! He's a fucking bastard ! First Luc, then me, then Gabriel?! Does he not love his own children at all?! Who's next, huh? Anna?! Raphael?!" He knows he's rambling but he doesn't care. He doesn't. "That son of a bitch can go to hell! Right where he fucking belongs, Gabriel is dead and dad probably wouldn't even care!"

"Castiel!"

"No Michael! I'm a cop now, I made a life for myself. I was sixteen and on the fucking streets and then I found my way. Gabriel went to fucking Harvard for God's sake! I have a job that I fucking love and I am surrounded by people who care about me, but Gabriel didn't get that. And who the hell knows where Lucifer is! He might be dead too! So tell that bible-thumping hypocrite to go to hell!" He throws the phone against the on the other side of the car and the battery pops out, but the device is otherwise unharmed. Castiel lets out a scream of frustration, turning his face to the darkened sky.

_"Son of a bitch!"_

 

~~~~

 

Charlie grabs at Dean as he makes a run for the door.

"Dean you can't! I've seen him get this way before, you have to stay and give him space. What happened?"

"I...I kissed him. He was going to kiss me but he pulled away and I-"

"Fucking hell!" Charlie grabbed her phone. "Are you insane?!" She typed furiously at something on the screen while she fumed with rage

"Yes. Probably. I just...I don't know."  Charlie smashed the device to her ear.

"Dammit Castiel pick up." There was a pause and some noise on the other end. "Hey! You self-sacrificing bastard! You're a fucking idiot!" She chucked the phone on the bed after hanging up.

"I have to find him Charlie."

"No. No you don't. You won't." Dean looked at her then. Then he turned toward the door, his eyes filling with...something else.  "Dean!" She grabs his arm, only to be flung to the ground. Dean whirls on her, his eyes replaced by black. His eyes are completely black. He kicks her in the side and she yelps. Then he turns back to the door and leaves.

 

~~~~

 

Castiel eventually puts his phone ba together after he's calmed down and turns on the screen.

**6 Missed Calls**

He opens his log and five of them are from Charlie. One is from Michael.

**One Voice Mail**

He enters his password and waits, the device pressed to his ear.

"Hey Cas. We need to find Dean. He-He just lost it. He ran out the door and I...I don't know where he went. Castiel please."

His heart stops for the second time that day. Charlie sounds terrified, and that terror instantly hits Castiel's chest as well.

 

~~~~

 

Dean is empty. Where there was previously guilt and concern there is an empty hole. If anyone were to see him they would write him off as some pissed off prick on his way to kick someone's ass, and they wouldn't be too far off. Except he's not pissed. He's just empty and broken, like he's always been.

This is who he is. A broken shell. He's always known that, and maybe he tried to pretend it wasn't true for a while. But now here he is. Just like that nurse all those months ago, broken.

"Hey buddy! You got a light?" Dean turns slowly to look at a man leaned against a the wall of the alley, a cigarette in hand. The man surveys Dean for a second. "Hey, you alright man? Need me to call you a cab? You drunk?" Dean approaches slowly, eyes sweeping around as he approaches the man. "Hey. Woah, back it up buddy."

It's so easy. No one hears anything as Dean places his hands on either side of the guy's head and pulls just so, hearing the bones in his neck make an audible crunch.

He drops the guy to the pavement and moves on, no regret or even discomfort in his eyes. He has a mission, a purpose. He has to find Cas. He has to fix what he broke, even if he can't fix himself.

 

~~~~

 

It's been two hours and they still can't find Dean. Charlie's okay, broke her nose when she hit the floor but otherwise unharmed.

Cas is going over the files while there's a team out looking for Dean. It's been hard for him to look at this, the images, the truth that lies inside of Dean's file. But he has to now. He has to do it for Dean.

"Okay. I can do this." The pep talk is unconvincing even to his own ears.

There's a video in the file labeled: **Subject Showing Signs of Extreme Violence and Lack of Control.**

Cas swallows and then presses play.

_Dean is sitting on the ground, looking up at a nurse. His eyes are broken and everything about him is just tired._

_"Come on John. You gotta eat something." Dean looks up at her and then pushes the tray of food away with his foot, shaking his head. "John. Come on, don't be like this.' Dean looks up at her with the eyes of a wounded animal, feral and terrified.  "Come on. Don't do this, you won't like it." Dean just stares forward with a resigned face, his eyes empty. "John." No response. "John."_

_It happens so suddenly, Dean's hand shoots out and grasps the nurse's leg, pulling it forcefully. A sickening cracking sound fills the air as Dean jumps up. "My name is Dean!"_

Castiel thinks he's gonna be sick, he quickly turns the screen off while he struggles to keep his food in his stomach. He swears he saw Dean's eyes turn black. Its then that it hits him. It's 4 in the morning, and he's sitting here watching videos of the guy he's been taking care of for the last six months snapping a woman's leg like a twig. So easily and without thought.

_'You're already dead'_ Alastair's voice whispers in the back of his mind.

Dean. The man who was so like a child, who was stunned when he saw himself in a mirror. _Hurting_ people so easily.

He has to find him. He has to fix this, he has to. This is his fault. He shouldn't have pushed Dean away like that, not after the man had been treated so unkindly in the past. He must be so lost and scared.

 

~~~~

 

Dean has been looking for Cas for a while, he doesn't know how long. The streets are cold and dark, not an unfamiliar sensation to the man. It's lonely and quiet, very few cars go by. He kicks at a cup on the sidewalk, his eyes unfocused. Where is he going again? He looks up and around, at the stars above him, the pavement below him.

He blinks, where is he again? Why is he here? How did he get here? He takes a deep breath of the cool air. Damn, it's chilly. It's fucking freezing actually. He stops and wraps his arms around himself. How had he not noticed the cold before? How did he not-

 

~~~~

 

Castiel jolts awake to his phone ringing and his hand shoots to grab it.

"Charlie?!"

"Cas they found him. We're at the hospital, he was nearly frozen to death."

Cas panics, jumping up off of the sofa bed where he had been passed out. He pretends that he didn't pass out with Dean's blanket pressed to his nose, inhaling the scent of pie and cologne that Dean didnt understand how to use reasonably. No. He definitely didn't do that.

"I'm on my way, ten minutes." He struggles to grab his things and get out the door, heart pounding like a thousand thoroughbred race horses.

"Hurry."

 

~~~~

 

Dean is swimming in darkness. Everywhere he looks there's just nothing. No light, no sound. It's just nothing. But it's not peaceful like most darkness he's experienced. It's...like someone is watching him. A presence waiting to pounce, to devour him whole. Every hair on his body is standing on end, every nerve is ready to fire, every muscle is wound tight like a spring ready to release. He tries to fidget but he can't move. He's being watched and he's trapped, he can't run, he can't get out. His heart speeds up, he has to run. He has to fight. But he can't. There's nothing to hit, no one to hurt, nothing to help him now.

He hasn't felt this helpless in a long time, not since...who? What was his name? Dean remembers strong arms, security, a deep voice. But what was his name? What was he to Dean?

 

~~~~

 

They take Cas to Dean's room and there he is, laying on the bed out cold. He had been found on the side of the road, almost dead in nothing but sweats and and a t-shirt in the cold December air.

So Castiel sits in a chair and watches him, trying his best to keep the tears in his eyes from spilling. He has to stay strong for Dean.

He falls asleep eventually and, in his dreams, sees a bright smile, wondering eyes inside his head. He sees a man that was broken and scared become so open and loving.

He feels soft lips, shallow breath against his face. He hears low laughter, and feels fingertips ghost over his skin. He's lost in a wave of sensation and feeling. Lost in a moment like he hasnt been since he was young. And he relishes in it, the connection, the closeness. And even halfway through, when he becomes aware it's a dream he just keeps allowing himself to melt into the touch, the feel. He loves it and he wants, _needs_ more.

"Dean..."

 

~~~~

 

"Dean..." His name, carried by some force outside this prison. Dean tries to call out, respond, beg for help, but no voice comes. It's like a thousand nights in that place, it's like he's back there. And maybe he is. Maybe that gravelly voice is just his mind trying to deny the truth. He's trapped, lost in this nothingness. But who knows what's real? Is anything? Had he just hallucinated all the time he spent with the man who's name he can't remember? Has he just been breaking down for all this time, dying in a broken heap like he always knew he would?

_Broken_ a voice whispers from the dark. _Useless, worthless_. Dean manages to let out only a weak whimper. - _Broken, sick, freak, unloved, unwanted_ -. The words- _hopeless_ \- interrupt every thought. Intrude- _useless sack of shit_ \- on every moment. Fill his - _disgusting_ \- mind with nothing but- _coward_ \- negativity. He wants to cry, can even feel his chest getting tight and the tears at corners of his - _abandoned_ \- eyes. But he's not allowed that release. He just teeters, on the edge.

 

~~~~

 

Cas stays in those strong arms a while longer, savoring the smell that's become such a part of his life. So close. So warm. He's safe, saved by the man he rescued all those months ago.

He breathes slowly, entranced. Trapped by the feeling of so much love. There's a buzzing in his ears but it's pleasant. Not irritating, but nice. Like when he was young and would climb into his parents' bed, when he would rest his head against his father's chest and listen to him snore, falling asleep to the low buzz. Therapeutic almost, that feeling of closeness, and not quiet. But also not chaotic noise. Just calm noise, enough to know that safety was nearby. Just enough.

 

~~~~

 

The voice is getting louder. The fear is getting stronger. Dean tries to cry out. The fear is everywhere, his heart is going crazy. He wants to scream and cry and run.

Then something changes. The voice stops, replaced by a low buzz. Its unusual, but soothing in a way he can't explain. Hes still paralyzed in the dark, but now it feels a bit less scary. Like there's someone nearby, like a protector. His protector, his guardian angel.

_His Cas_

Castiel. His guardian angel, his protector, his savior. He has to get to him, he's nearby, Dean can feel it. He has to go to him, find him.

"Castiel!"

 

~~~~

 

"Castiel!" The cop jolts awake to Dean thrashing on the bed. He bolts up and jams his finger into the nurse call button, trying to calm the man's thrashing limbs.

"Dean!" And like that, he calms. His eyes are still closed but he's calmer, he's not freaking out anymore. "Dean can you hear me?" A nurse in hospital scrubs comes rushing in. But she stops when she sees Cas kneeling beside the bed. "Hey. I need you to come back, alright? You're wanted here." Dean twitches, his eyelids fluttering while Cas keeps talking in soothing tones. "I need you here. I didn't even want this fucking job. I wanted some boring desk gig. But then, on my first day I found you. And you needed me, like no one needed me before. You were so pure and your eyes were so filled with wonder. Open those green eyes for me, would ya? Let me see those beauties again. One more time."

By this point there's a small crowd of nurses blocking the doorway. But Cas is too absorbed in Dean, his hand caressing that face and tears dripping on the unconscious man. "Please."

 

~~~~

 

"Please." Dean's eyes open at the plea, a d he takes a moment to adjust to the brightness. Castiel has his head on the matteress, openly sobbing. Dean hates when Castiel is sad.

"I don't think I've ever seen you cry." Castiel's head shoots up, his eyes widening. "I don't like seeing people cry."

Castiel scrambles to pull the man into an embrace.

"You scared the fuck out of me!" He sobs, because he just can't seem to get it to stop. He buried his face in the other man's chest, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. And then he feels a low rumble and looks up. "Are you...laughing?" Dean smiles and chuckles heartily.

"I think you were snoring."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously though, is anyone else getting emotional? I'll try to get another one up in the next few days, but no promises with the holidays. I really wanna spend some time with my family. So we'll see how it goes. And comments and feedback always make my day, so thank you to everyone who takes the time to do that!


	10. Days Long Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh would you look at that there's actual PLOT DEVELOPMENT in the chapter

Castiel Novak left home when he was 16 years old. Growing up in an extremely religious home, going to church every Sunday, spending most of his younger years listening to Christian music and to his father rage about the latest _crime against God_ , that was his life. He was one of six children. From oldest to youngest, Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Anna. He was the middle kid, caught between Gabe and Raphael. He was weaker though, always grew up having to be protected by his brothers. His best friend when he was ten, Meg, was the living contradiction of everything his family had raised him to believe. Her mom had her out of wedlock, a sin. Her father ran away of course, they were 14. _Fourteen_. A scandal to the sheltered Novak boy. Then her mom got hooked on alcohol, which was apparently not a sin considering how much Castiel's parents drank. Then came the drugs, coming home late. According to Meg, her mom died when she was five from something called an overdose. So she went around from foster home to foster home, no one wanting to keep her around for long.

Meg was his connection. His way out from the singing and the life of a good Christian boy. She was different from anyone he had ever know. She was caring, but his or behind a tough exterior. She introduced him to different music, movies, tv shows, and porn. Yeah that was interesting, sitting with her and freaking out that his father might burst in the door at any moment. She even tried to come on to him once, but when she got no response she made it her mission to educate him on what she referred to as 'your inner baby gay.' It didn't take him long to realize she was talking about homosexuality. A sin.

But, after lengthy research and education on the many topics of human sexuality and gender, as well as a couple gay porn sessions with Meg, he concluded that he was, in fact, gay.

Needless to say, finding a boyfriend was extremely problematic, so a few days after his 16th birthday, Meg got a friend to make them fake ID's and she took Castiel to his first gay bar. A few drinks and a couple make out sessions with random strangers later, and _yeah_ , he was most definitely gay. No way to deny it now. He even danced with a couple guys, if you can call _grinding his brains out_ dancing. It was the best night of his young life, cut free from a family that didn't accept him. Uncaring of a ten thirty curfew or church the next day, he was just himself. Drunk, but himself.

That all ended when he stumbled in the house at 2 am, too drunk to put together a sentence and being held up by an admittedly scantily dressed Meg. Oh, and he was wearing eyeliner, Meg's idea. His dad was waiting with a scowl on his face and rage in his eyes.

The next morning, Castiel Novak, sporting an enormous hang over, was subjected to a three hour lecture on obedience and the sin of temptation. Then, an hour before they would leave for church, kicked out on his ass. He spent weeks hopping from place to place, got a job somehow, and made a life for himself. He built himself back up from ashes and dirt and all the other shit that his life had crumbled to. He dated a few people, but he didn't have time to maintain a healthy relationship. He ended up working three jobs until he eventually became a police officer.

He rebuilt his life. He changed himself for the best, and left that past behind. Because, according to his father ' _Faggots aren't welcome here_ ' so instead, he found a place he was welcome, people who did care. And fuck everyone who had ever dared to try and control him.

 

~~~~

 

"We got another one. Same symptoms, violent outbreaks, the eyes. Classic case." A nurse informed a man clad in a white lab coat.

"How old?" He asked, not even bothering to glance up from his computer

"Just turned five." The man looked up then, eyes filled with a sick glee, a malice in his eyes mixed with pure joy. 

"I want him. I don't care what you have to do, make up a stupid disorder, fake symptoms, I don't care. Get him here as soon as possible." The look in his eyes would make any normal person sick to their stomach, the greed and malice that runs across his features is terrifying, but the nurse doesn't even flinch in the face of it.

"Yes sir."

 

~~~~

 

Castiel wakes up in a familiar position, being spooned by a man much bigger than he and with a massive hangover. He tries to remember the night before, but draws blank. So he opts to slip away from the grasp and dress before leaving out the back door.

Once he's in his car, his phone rings, Meg's caller ID staring at him, in all his headache, hung-over glory. He picks it up with a groan.

"Hey, did we go to a bar last night? I told you not to let me go with guys if I'm too shitfaced to-"

"Castiel Novak?" That's an unfamiliar voice. His chest automatically fills with panic.

"Yes?"

"We have a woman here, calls herself Meg. Kept saying that we had to call someone named Castiel Novak. You are Castiel in her contacts list."

"Yeah that's me, is she in trouble?" There's a pause at the other end, and the man takes a breath.

"I'm sorry but she passed. Her bleeding was substantial but she kept begging for us to call you, we couldn't stop it." Castiel feels a lump in his throat.

"Did...what happened?"

"She was in a car accident. She was clearly intoxicated, no one else was injured."

His lifeline, his way out, the only person who ever cared, actually cared about him, bled out on the pavement calling his name.

 

~~~~

 

A little boy is led into a room filled with thousands of dollars worth of equipment, looking around with awe in his green eyes. His father pulls him along.

"Hello, this must be Dean." A nurse smiles and kneels down in front of the boy.

"Yeah. Here he is." The boy hides behind his father, obviously scared. The nurse extends a hand to welcome him out and he hesitantly makes his way forward. His father shoves him toward her, not so much rough as a crude sort of encouraging.

"Come on Dean." The little boy went up and stood before her, eyes trained on the ground in front of him.

"My name is Ruby." She smiles, but Dean still doesn't look up. "That's okay." She looks at John. "I'll have you do some paperwork, say your goodbyes and then you can come and see him whenever you like."

John never comes to see his son once he leaves the facility that day. He doesn't even say goodbye. He just looks at Dean and walks out, knowing his boy will be okay.

At least, he thinks he knows. But in fact, he doesnt. Because once the Impala pulls away, the nurse's smiling facade drops in mere seconds. She grabs Dean by the wrist roughly and drags him away, the boy becoming confused and unruly. He's soon drugged, tied up, and studied. But before that, hes dragged, hit, screamed at, and beaten into submission. He cries, and the last time he speaks, he's screaming.

" _Dad! Dad help me!_ "

Years - decades - later, John learns that he didn't know. He learns that his certainty, his faith, was misplaced. But it's too late for that little boy by then.

 

~~~~

 

Dean stays in the hospital for a couple days, and on the day he's released he looks up at Castiel, uncertainty in his eyes as they wait for the release forms to go through.

"I need to see my father." He barely manages to choke the sentence out, his voice shaking uncontrollably.

Cas stares blankly. "What." Dean looks down.

"I need to, Cas. I keep...I keep flashing back to the first day. The day he, the day he took me to The Perdition Project. I can barely remember it but something like that," He pauses, obviously struggling with the gravity of what his father did. "It never goes away, Cas. He just _left_ me there."

"Dean I don't think-" He's cut off as pleading green eyes meet his again. He softens, because really, who could resist those beautiful green orbs. _Huh. Beautiful_. He looks at Dean, and for the first time, registers that thought. Dean is beautiful. He pushes that away for now, resolving to deal with it later. There are more important things at the moment.

He sits on the bed next to Dean, taking a deep breath. "I haven't seen my father since I was sixteen. I called my brother the other day and found out he didn't even know Gabriel died. I want to talk to him but I'm a coward." He looks directly into Dean's eyes now. "You are so brave, Dean. It has to be so hard. After all this time, what he did to you." He sighs. "I'll call Sam."

 

~~~~

 

Sam is sitting in bed reading a book when his phone rings. He sticks a finger in the book and grabs the cell. _Castiel Novak,_ the caller ID reads. He picks up.

"Hey Castiel. Did something happen?" There's a short pause on the other end and some murmuring in the background that he can't quite make out.

"Sammy." Its Dean. Sammy sits up a little straighter.

"Dean. How are you?"

"Sammy I have to talk to dad." He doesn't even bother to answer the question.

Sam makes a strangled choking noise in his throat

"W-why?"

"You know why." Sammy puts the books down, not even caring that he lost his page  
  
"Dean...dad..." Sammy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "He died. Around the same time Gabe did."

Dean hangs up.

 

~~~~

 

"Dean? What did he say?" Dean looks up, and there's an unreadable expression on his face.

"Let's go home Cas." He grabs his bag and straightens out his t-shirt. Castiel doesn't pry, Dean will open up when he's ready.

They check out and head toward the enterance.

 

~~~~

 

Castiel was the only one who mourned Meg. She had no one else. No one in the world who cared anymore. So he had her cremated and stored her in his bedroom, on a shelf facing a window. She had been his connection. His way out.

And maybe, in some way, he had been her connection too. A way in, a way to feel like she was helping someone, like she was better than her parents or her past.

Maybe.

That night, for the first time in a long time, he looks at the urn. Its a little weird but he needs someone to talk to, even if they cant respond. So he rests his chin in the shelf and he talks, just like he used to. Like the old days.

What he doesn't notice is the shape in his doorway.

"Hey Meg. So there's this guy..." he whispers, smiling fondly as he remembers how he used to tell her that. "He's handsome. And he's sweet. I love being around him." He chuckles at the familiar way he slips into this so easily. "I like him Meg. A lot."

 

~~~~

 

Dean feels his breath catch. So that's why Cas rejected him. There was someone else. He feels dirty, listening in on something so private. He clears his throat, feeling guilty just standing there.

"Who was she?" Castiel jumps and whirls around, blue eyes impossibly wide.

"H-how much-"

"Enough. Who was she." It's not a question any more.

"Someone who helped me immensely." He frowns a little. "Dean, about what's said-" The other man holds up a hand.

"Cas if there was someone else you could have told me, okay? I would have understood." Castiel furiously shakes his head.

"No! Dean, it's not that! There is no one!" Dean looks confused. "I-I was talking about you."

"Me?" Dean's eyebrow furrows and he frowns. "Then why did you-"

"Because you're my charge. My responsibility. You dont even know what sex is. You're pretty much a child when it comes to those things."

Dean looks hurt, genuinely upset.

"A child? Is that all I am to you?"

"No-"

Before he can finish there are lips on his. Dean has his fingers curled in his shirt. He pulls away for a split second.

"Please don't run away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, long time no update! My health is FINALLY improving and it looks like it's gonna stick, thank goodness. I just want to say thank you to everyone that's sticking with me through all my weird delays. I appreciate it so much! Thank you guys!


	11. Christmas Morning

"Please don't run away." Dean whispers, his breath hot against Castiel's face. The older man looks into his eyes, considering every possibility, every consequence. Every scenario runs into his head but somehow his mouth moves on its own. His body is taken from his grasp by an invisible force.

"Okay." He whispers back. Its against his better judgement, but he leans forward to taste those lips again, intending to savor it this time. Its not good or bad, just a meeting of skin on skin, mouth on mouth. Its a little awkward with Dean's inexperience, but Castiel moves in a way that's familiar and Dean mimicks him. They fall into a sort of rythm, moving in synchrony as they rocn against each other, with each other. They're almost one entity in this moment. It grows heated as each man becomes accustomed to the new sensations.

When they finally come up for air, Castiel looks at Dean, blue orbs searching deep into green depths, looking for something. The intense stare isn't uncomfortable, and there's a moment of silence.

Castiel decides to break the tension in the air. "Dean." He breathes. "I'm so sorry. For running out. For being so distant. I'm sorry." He doesn't even care or consider as he lays his head on Dean's chest, listening to his heartbeat. He wants so bad to lose himself in this moment, this feeling. If only it could last forever. He wants this bliss to last forever.

Dean must be thinking the same thing, because his next words are hesitant. Like he doesn't want to lose that sensation, "Don't ever apologize to me. You saved my life, you saved me." His arms wrap around Castiel, too strong for so many years spent in captivity. His muscles should be atrophied, he should be weak and out of shape. 

Unwillingly, Castiel's mind snaps to the video of Dean breaking that nurse's leg. He shivers involuntarily but if Dean notices he doesn't say. They just stand in this moment a second longer.

 

~~~~

 

Christmas the next morning comes bright and new. His first in two decades. Of course, he doesn't know it's Christmas until a too-energetic Charlie bounces into the room, shaking him awake with a smile. She must have a key because she just shows up whenever she feels like. 

"Dean if you do not wake your sleepy ass up in the next five minutes you don't get presents." That's not enough to make him open his eyes. She huffs, crossing her arms "Or pie." He's fully awake now, eyes blinking in the light streaming through the window, reflecting of the snow outside and magnifying the admittedly dim morning light.

"Alright! We need Christmas music!" She grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV while Dean tried to wake up fully. A news channel is on, a severe looking woman is looking grimly into the camera.

"Late Saturday night this man was caught on camera attacking 32 year old Edward Trenton. Trenton's body was found early Sunday morning. We do warn any viewers, the following footage is graphic and may be disturbing. Watch with caution."

Charlie hasn't changed the channel yet, eyes fixed on the image in wonder. Its dark and there's really only shadows, but it's easy enough to make out. A figure is walking down the alleyway, head down, maybe in thought or in shame. Maybe even in fear. He stops and turns toward the wall, where another figure emerges out of the shadows. There's a pause and it looks like the two are talking. After a moment, the first figure moves forward and places his hands-

Charlie looks away. But Dean doesn't. His chest is tight and suddenly he _remembers_. He can almost hear the sickening crunch as the man hits the pavement, even though there's no sound. 

"Is it over?" But Dean can't think. He just stares blankly at the image, disbelieving.

After a second looking at the body, the first figure turns toward the camera, and a streetlamp barely illuminates his features. Anyone who didn't know him wouldn't be able to recognise him but Charlie is looking back at the screen now. She pauses it, a mix of emotion in her face. 

"Jesus. Not how I wanted to spend Christmas." She looks at Dean but he's not all there, his eyes unfocused and faraway. Charlie looks at him in curiosity.

Dean is back in that alley. He can _feel_ the way he so easily took the man's head between his hands. It took about as much effort as flicking away a pesky fly. He wants to vomit. He thinks he might.

Again he remembers the crunch. Just like when he attacked the nurse.

Jesus, _he's a fucking monster_.

"Whats going-  fucking hell." Both Charlie and Dean look at the enterance to the living room. Casteil is in the doorway, frozen to the spot.

"Cas. We gotta call somebody." Charlie looks beween the two men, gaze finally resting back on Cas, who looks like he's about to have a heart attack.

"Okay. Okay I know." He pulls out his phone, movements mechanical and hesistant. He's still in shock. But Dean has stood up now and he looks at Castiel.

His eyes are black.

Dean starts walking toward the door, and Castiel is quickly held back by Charlie, who furiously whispers something in his ear, silently begging him not to go,

Dean walks out the door.

 

~~~~

 

Dean becomes almost instantly untraceable. There's no CCTV, there's no sightings, nothing. It's like he's just disappeared off the face of the earth. It's not like last time, where they found him in a hospital or through reports of someone else. There's no sign of him. It's almost like he never existed at all, not even a ghost of his presence can be found.

It terrifies Castiel. He knows something is wrong, and he cant help but be scared. Dean killed somebody. He's dangerous, as much as the cop doesn't want to admit it and he needs to be found.

Dean is missing for exactly five months, three weeks, and two days. When he finally appears again it's in handcuffs with a body count.

 

~~~~

 

"Castiel. Your loverboy is back." Castiel raises his head, eyebrows arched in unspoken sass. "I still think you should dump that asshole but whatever." Castiel's co-worker Hannah is standing next to him, leaning against his desk and smiling mischeviously.

"He's not an asshole. And he's not my boyfriend either you horny heterosexual." Castiel huffs, grabbing his bag from under his chair.

"That's a new one." The other cop gave a hearty chuckle, her eyes sparkling with sick humor and too much pep.

"Whatever." Castiel stood up, readying himself to leave. If only to escape Hannah and her enthusiasm.

"Not so fast, just got word. They caught some asset that escaped a few months ago, I guess." Castiel's chest tightens with hope and maybe a hint of fear. Hannah hasn't been here long enough to know about Dean and she doesn't have the clearance to know his true purpose anyway. But maybe. Just maybe.

"Do you know the name?"

"Sean or Bean or something. I don't know."

"Dean." He breathes out.

"Yeah. One of your ops?" But he's not listening any more.

"When are they bringing him in?"

"Next few minutes, why?"

Almost as if on cue, the door bursts open. Five officers are struggling to contain the flailing limbs of their charge. More officers run to help, but the guy swats them away like flies. Castiel stands, not sure what do to until he does it.

" _Dean_!" The clear, uncharacteristically loud boom of his voice causes every soul in the station to freeze, including Dean. The silence is deafening. " _What the fuck is wrong with you!?_ " Everyone flinches as that voice cuts the air again. No one dares to make a move to stop the man with hellfire in his eyes as he storms across the floor to stand in front of Dean. He grabs the man by his greasy and torn up t-shirt collar, ignoring the smell that tickles his nostrils. " _Killing people?! Leaving like that?! How dare you!_ " He's all-out screaming into the man's freckled face, eyes hot with rage.

"C-Cas?"  The shaky voice almost makes Cas soften. Almost.

"I was so fucking worried! Do you understand that?!" His voice has lowered a notch down from the screeching boom, but the man is still not exactly quiet.

"I...Cas I'm so sorry." Dean looks down, tears gathering in his eyes. Now that makes Cas soften.

"Dean what were you thinking?" He asks, almost gently. It's as if everyone else in the room has disappeared. It's just the Angel and his Righteous Man.

"I wasn't. That's the thing, Cas. I was just...consumed by this hunger. I couldn't think or feel anything." He's trying so hard to fight tears, and the end of the sentence breaks off in a choked half-sob.

Cas releases the man's shirt and pulls him close. "I'm sorry Dean. I'm so sorry."

"Castiel what the hell is going on?" The voice is familiar to Castiel and he looks up.

"Lucifer, this is Dean." Dean looks up and his eyes immediately widen. He yells, pushing Castiel away and standing protectively in front of him.

"Get away you crazy bastard!" Dean yells at the blonde.

"Dea-"

" _Get! Away!_ " Dean lunges, the handcuffs breaking and falling on the ground like they're made of glass. He leaps on top of the man, and people try to grab him but they're swatted away like pesky mosquitoes.

Dean is going crazy, punching at Lucifer like a man possessed. Every single officer that comes at him is thrown away like a rag doll. Someone shoots a taser, but Dean doesn't even flinch.

A gunshot goes off. Everything slips into slow motion, and everything seems to go by at a fraction of the normal rate.

Dean turns, his face contorted in surprise. In the millisecond it takes for the bullet to reach him, Dean...catches it. He catches a bullet. It felt like minutes passed as the bullet sped at the brunette, but only a moment. Everyone stands in shock, mouths wide enough to catch flies. But no jaw is closer to the ground than Castiel's. His piercing blue eyes are widened unimaginably large, bewilderment written plainly on his face. Dean's eyes have turned black again.

"Dean...p-put the bullet down. Get off Lucifer. Please." The terror in Castiel's voice is enough to make those eyes flicker back to green. "What did he do, Dean? How do you know him?"

"He...he ran the Perdition Project." Dean whispered, eyes turning upward and tears sliding down his cheeks. "He," Dean wipes the tears away, the bullet dropping to the ground, "he was...he ran it all. I saw him. I saw him."

The admission is met with murmurings of curiosity and suspicion. This is met with several implications, foremost being, Castiel's brother, who he had just reconnected with, ran the project that he was working against. But that was impossible. The project had been operational for at least twenty years, Lucifer was only thirty.

"Well. I took over at least, in the last ten years or so." The bloodied man slurs his words, immediately answering Castiel's unspoken question. "My predecessor was an incomp-" He's cut off by a sharp smack to the face, though Dean does nothing else to further cause the man harm.

"Dean we need you to get up now. Okay? Can you do that? We have to question him. Okay?"

Dean nods slowly, lifting himself away from Lucifer as police officers swarm to grab the blonde on the ground. His eye is swollen and his nose is probably broken, but he looks good considering the circumstances.

Castiel studies his brother's face before continuing, "You werent using full strength." He whispered to the man he now held in his arms. "You could have caved his skull if you wanted."

"He needs to pay for what he did. To me, to everyone. And I have questions for him."

Castiel sighs, holding the man close.

"You need to go with the other officers now, okay? You did some bad things and they need to talk to you about it."

"Okay Cas."


	12. Author's Note

Hey guys so this fic is gonna be on pause for little bit. Once again, my health has deteriorated and I don't have a lot of time to write between feeling like shit and trying to stay caught up with school. I will return to this fic eventually, and I promise that I won't stop writing it. But at the current moment I am not in a situation where I can devote the amount of time I would like to writing. I want to produce quality chapters for you guys and I won't be able to do that to the best of my ability until my health has improved. I'm not abandoning this by any means, but it will be a while before it gets updated. I'm sorry guys.


	13. Family Reunions

"What is wrong with Dean?" The police officer on the tape asks. Lucifer smirks.

"No no you're asking the wrong questions. It's not what's _wrong_ with him. It's what's right." The police officer snarls, but quickly gains his composure.

"What about the other patients?"

"They'll be dead soon enough."

Castiel sucked in a breath and hit pause. His brothers interrogation had turned up only cryptic riddles and statements that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Meanwhile, the other patients were all being held in secure locations by other members of the team. There had been much debate about moving Dean to a safe house with another member as his guard, but given his fragile mental state and body count, it was decided to allow him to continue in Castiel's care.

But Castiel wasn't sure he wanted to care for him anymore. There were too many complications, too many ways he could get hurt. Dean was declared incompetent, Castiel would be making any and all decisions as to whether to institutionalize him or not. Castiel chose not to, that would only make things worse. He didn't want to seem like he was giving up on the man.

But maybe, some small part of him wanted it to end. The same part of him that didn't want to be part of this special division. The same part that didn't believe in destiny or fate or miracle. But another part of him, that piece of him that had held Dean close. That part of him wanted nothing more than to protect Dean, his angel. Castiel laughed bitterly at that. He had been named after an angel, as had all his brothers. An unfortunate side effect of growing up in a family like his.

Another side effect, one he lived with every day, was the unending guilt that came rushing to him every time he closed his eyes. The hurt in his little sister's face when he walked out the door with nothing in his hands but a bag of clothes and hygiene products. He can still hear her voice, begging him not to leave. But he walked out, it's not like he had a choice. And now Gabriel's dead, Lucifer is the head of some illegal research lab and Castiel is falling apart. Every principal he has built himself on since he left his home has been washed away. He's involved with his family again and he's headed right for destruction.

So, with nothing left of him, Castiel drops his head and folds his hands. For the first time in years, he prays. Its not so much a prayer as a broken cry, a need for help so deep he'll turn to anything if it will take away the pain that has so consumed him. A tear slips from his eyes and he bangs his folded hands on the desk. He's the only one here this late so he turns his head to the ceiling and he silently asks for all the things he so desperately needed. Hope, happiness. He feels ridiculous, looking at the rotting white ceiling as if it will bring him anything more than emotional pain. He lets his hands fall apart, studying them where they lay against the wood. Then, not really sure what he's doing, he grabs the phone and dials a familiar number.

The phone rings twice before it picks up. "Hello?" Castiel freezes. For a second, he makes to hang up but that voice comes over the line again. "Hello?"

"Hey...Dad." There's a pause, and Castiel thinks that the man has hung up.

"Castiel." His tone is even, no hate or admiration inside his voice. Only indifference.

Castiel takes a very deep breath for the next part. Everything ttumbls out at once. "I'm a cop now. I uphold the law. I save people. I saved a man who was held captive and tortured for two decades." He pauses, only for a moment. "I am not a failure. I made my life and I love it. I have friends and I have people I love. I am in love with someone. And I am not sorry for any of it. I do not regret a single day." There's only the sound of measured breathing for a moment.

"Why are you telling me this?" Castiel smiles, because all of the hate in his chest is gone. Replaced by understanding and perfect contentment.

"Thank you. For being a total asshole. Otherwise, I would probably still be stuck in that dead end town, trapped in a loveless marriage and utterly miserable. So thank you for that." He clicks the phone down before his father can answer.

 

~~~~

 

He gets several calls from his father over the next couple hours but he ignores them. He's had his moment of triumph and for once, Jimmy Novak is not going to win. Not this time. Never again. Castiel's not wasting one more day on that assbutt. Not now or ever. This is his life, and he's gonna live it.

"I need to talk to my brother." Castiel demanded, voice calm and level in a way his father would be proud of.

"No Castiel. You're too close to this." Chuck doesnt even look up from his computer.

"Chuck. I'm going to talk to my brother." the man finally looked up, expression severe.

"Castiel." He warned, eyes stern.

"Chuck." Castiel stared straight back. Chuck's face softened.

"Good job Cas. Go talk to your brother."

"What?" Chuck smiled.

"You've never stood up to me. You've always been the perfect subordinate but that's not what I need. I need someone who's willing to risk everything for their morals. You get ten minutes."

"Twenty." Chuck looked at him over the tops of his glasses.

"Don't push me Cas." Cas backed off, just awkwardly nodding and walking away.

"Cassie!" Lucifer exclaimed when the door burst open. "Come to beg me? To try and understand me?" He scoffed, looking at the wall.

"No. I came to find answers."

Lucifer shook his head, leaning back in his chair with an 'I don't give a shit' grin. "Little brother-" He jumped when Castiel slammed a hand on the table

"I am not your little brother. Do you understand me you son of a bitch?!" Lucifer didn't flinch again.

"Don't talk about mom that way." He snarked.

"Lucifer. Talk. Right now." Castiel obviously wasn't playing around. Lucifer just smirked and leaned forward.

"Don't talk to me that way you faggot." His voice was unnervingly even. Castiel stiffened and Lucifer looked triumphant. "Yeah I was gone but I still heard about your...exit from our household. Such a cliche, the bible thumpers' son liking dick." His tone was dark and low. Castiel knew what he was doing, trying to get under his skin. Trying to get him to break.

"Lucifer." He said firmly. "Now." The blonde haired man just shrugged.

"You know. You look just like dad. And right now? You sound just like him too." Cas grit his teeth, his facade starting to crack around the edges. Lucifer leaned across the table, so close that Castiel could feel his breath "A fucking _carbon copy_." Castiel's hand came down on the table, his mask shattering like glass.

" _Don't you ever compare me to him._ " His voice was darker, lower than Lucifer's. His eyes narrowed with rage. "I am _not_ that bastard. I am not. I let you back in my fucking life because I thought I could trust you! I thought you had changed! That you stopped being that drug addicted bad boy. I wanted you to be in my goddamn life."

There was a pause, a silence. Castiel's eyes widened. "You knew I was investigating the Perdition Project." He breathed. "You were _using_ me. Your _own brother_. Trying find out what I knew. I let you stay in my _home_. And you were using me."

"Yes. I. Was." Castiel's vision went red. Seconds passed and he found himself being pulled away from his bleeding brother by Chuck and Hannah.

" _Fuck you_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm not dead! My health is still shit but between running to the toilet, trying to keep up on schoolwork, and doctors appointments, I somehow managed a chapter! Yay!


	14. Deep Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this is so unedited and spewed out. Its probably weird but whatever, I'll fix it later

Unsurprisingly, Castiel was placed on leave until he could get his shit together.

But of course, with a once again silent Dean in the house, it was hard to be on leave.

Dean had stopped talking again, taking to sitting at the window and sulking. He seemed guilty. Like something in his head just wouldn't quit. Castiel tried. He did, he would make eggs and dance around to stupid songs he didn't even know. But Dean never smiled. He never laughed. He just sat silently.

So Castiel resorted to foul play. Desperate times, desperate measures.

"Hey Dean, breakfast!" Castiel was shirtless, making eggs. Dean came in from the bathroom and paused to see Castiel in such an unfamiliar situation. "AC's broken, I'm hot as fuck. I hope you don't mind." Castiel's uncommon use of foul language had Dean's head tilting curiously. Castiel was lying of course, but he had turned the AC off.

Castiel continued making eggs, moving around the kitchen as if nothing was different. If he was being honest, the situation made him slightly uncomfortable. His dad's words would never truly fade, but he wouldn't let them control him either.

He served Dean the eggs and they ate in silence, the younger man sweating the entire time.

Afterwards, Castiel disposed of their dishes and lounged on one end of the couch, reading a book, acting like he wasn't half naked in front of the man he was supposed to be taking care of.

The silence broke unexpectedly.

"I killed them." Dean whispered. Cas sat his book down, leaning forward to listen. "I just...killed them. I didn't even think about it. I just snapped their necks, stabbed them..." He trailed off, a sob choking in his throat. "There was a man. And I...I killed him in front of his kids. And I didnt kill them Cas....they. They have to live with that." He broke, falling forward against Cas's naked chest and crying. Castiel wrapped his arms around him, not bothering to say anything.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" They both knew he wasn't talking about the murders. Dean looked up and nodded shortly.

~~A Long Time Ago~~

_Dean sobbed, yelling for his dad. The nurse grumbled and smacked him sharply in the chin._

_"Shut the fuck up." She growled. "He's not gonna save you. He left you." She turns back to her work, and the tied up 5 year old has ceased talking. "You're a special one aren't you? Violent, violent." She clicks her tongue and Dean doesn't understand. What did he do? Why did he deserve this? She turns back, a syringe in hand. Dean startles at the sight of it and starts screaming again._

_"Dad! Dad help me!" He pleads with no-one in particular. The nurse comes closer and he breaks his bonds, jumping off the table toward the door. The nurse screams in frustration._

_"HE'S NOT COMING FOR YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT! HE DOESN'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOU! HE LEFT YOU!" The nurse lunges for the boy, but he's faster, darting to the other end of the room._

_The nurse presses a button on the wall, her voice screeching into the speaker next to it. "GET IN HERE AND STOP HIM!"_

_In moments, there are men everywhere. Pain shoots through Dean as sharp boots kick out and hard fists catch his face. He sobs for a few moments, but he never speaks again. He doesn't call out, he doesn't scream. He just grunts in agony as the pain spreads over his entire body and pain is all he can feel._

_What did he do?_

~~~Present Day~~~

Castiel was crying now too, hearing this story recounted. He's holding, no clinging to Dean. Without even thinking he presses his lips to Dean's forehead, a comforting gesture. Dean just leans into it, grateful for the comfort.

And then he continues.

~~ A slightly less Long time ago~~

_Dean hasn't spoken in years. He barely remembers his own name, they stripped him of his identity. His integrity. His pride._

_He doesn't know how old he is, but it seems that every year on a day that must be his birthday, he gets taken for tests. They draw blood and inject serums and flash lights and images in front of him. They attach things to his skull and talk in gibberish he doesn't understand about just how broken he is._

_But this time, it's different. The nurse takes the blood and stops. Because the blood isn't red. It's grey. How can blood be grey? It should be physically impossible. The nurse let's put a sharp gasp and stared into Dean's eyes._

_"Maybe you're not so useless after all." The words should sting but they don't. So many insults have been thrown his way over the years he's stopped caring. She calls in a man. Dean's seen him before, they call him Satan when he's not looking but he doesn't know his real name._

_Dean barely knows his own name._

_"His blood." The nurse held up the vial, And it shifted under the ceiling lights. Satan's eyes lit up with a sick glee that made Dean sick to his stomach._

_"Get as much of it as you can, I don't care if you have to bleed him dry. Get it."_

_The hours passed and Dean passed out more than once. He didn't know how long it was, could have been days. Weeks. Hell, it might have been years that he spent in that haze. Vial after vial, bag after bag of his blood, carted away to God knows where._

_And one day, he started bleeding red again. The nurse got angry and slashed him with a knife. It was one of the few times they didn't knock him out for it._

_She sliced along his legs and arms, his torso and chest. She sliced like she was angry, but Dean just took it, grunting in pain but not speaking a word._

_"Come on! Say something you pile of shit!" She punctuated the words with a slash low on his stomach. "Say something! Beg me to stop!" But he didn't beg, he just whimpered in pain. When her anger came to an end she screamed in frustration. "Fuck you!"_

~Present Day~

Castiel let out a shaky breath, grasping hard at Dean, reminding him that he was there. Dean sobbed, remembering how crying in the facility just lead to pain.

But now, there's no pain. Just a solid body next to his.

"Dean..." Castiel whispered. "Dean." And that name felt good, brushing against Dean's ears like a soft wind. "You...god, Dean." It had stopped being clear where one's tears ended and the other's began. They were melting into each other, taking comfort in each other.

At some point, Castiel had begun kissing Dean. His forehead, cheek, nose, trying to provide any sense of comfort he could. Dean leaned into it, welcoming the comfort.

"I remember," Dean began. "Killing them. All of them."

~This is a graphic murder flashback just sayin', if stuff like that bothers you skip it~

_Dean was hungry. Not for food, nothing so simple. No he was hungry for adrenaline coursing through his veins. He was famished for the crackling sounds of bone and flesh as they meshed and pulled apart._

_He craved to kill._

_His kills were never planned or premeditated. He couldn't think enough to make a plan. He only had one thought._

_Kill._

_So when he came upon a man walking in a residential neighborhood he followed. He couldn't do this is the open, that much he could understand._

_The man didn't lock his front door when he went inside. Stupid mistake. Not that locked doors could do much against Dean. This just made it easier._

_He crept into the house, careful of the noises he made._

_The television was on, playing some animated movie. He could see the man's head against the couch, and could barely make out two other small figures next to him._

_Before he can blink he's across the room, tugging the man over the couch and on to the ground, pinning him. The two girls screamed, and their father looked terrified._

_"W-who?" But the words meant nothing to Dean. His black eyes stared unfeeling at his chose victim, who could do little more than weakly struggle at the stronger man._

_"Let go!" One of the girls screamed, hitting Dean hard with some kind of wooden object. He didn't even react, the stick splintering over his head like it and hit a truck, not a human skull. The man beneath him scrabbled at his arms_

_"Please. Please don't hurt them. Take whatever you want, just please leave them alone." But Dean didn't want money, or jewels. He wanted blood. He wanted suffering._

_He dug his sharp fingernails into the man's throat with superhuman force, and pulled._

_The sound of the girls screaming didn't even meet his ears as blood squirted over him. He and ripped the guy's throat out with his own two hands. He turned to the girls now, fully ready to do the same. But something stopped him, as his eyes fell on the older of the two standing defensively in front of her sister, shaking but obviously willing to protect the only family she had left_  
  
_Please. Don't hurt them. A voice pleaded inside his head. And maybe it was the voice of his latest victim, or someone else he had forced away a long time ago. Someone he had buried so deep inside his head that they didn't have a name anymore._

_So he left. Just turned around and walked out the door._

~Okay it's over~

Dean looked up at Cas. "I need to know. I need to know what's wrong with me, why this shit happens. Please Cas." Cas looked at him with something that was a mix of pity and pride.

Their kiss was simple, a touch of soft skin. It was a reassurance more than anything. A promise of protection, of a coming resolution. Cas pulled away ever so slightly.

"Okay Dean."

They just sat there in comfortable silence, neither willing to break the spell that had fallen over the room, until Cas's phone rang and shit hit the fan.

~~~~

The other subjects were dead, all of them. Just...dead. There was no clear sign of trauma, autopsies and toxicology reports came back but there was no reason these people should have died. No trauma, no poisons, they were all in perfect health.

But Dean was fine. He was okay, somehow. But how?

A thousand diagnostics had been run but nothing was wrong with Dean either. They had to keep him in a hospital to ensure his safety.

Dean hated hospitals.

Castiel was sitting by his bed reading a book while Dean dozed off. He had been having trouble sleeping, but for no particular reason. He just couldn't. When Cas looked up from his book, Dean had dropped off. He watched the sleeping man for a moment before he noticed something.

_Dean wasn't breathing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dodges flying food* 
> 
> To explain Castiel's train of thought with the whole shirtless thing, it wasn't sexual in origin. He was exposing himself physically in order to make Dean more willing to expose himself mentally, it that makes sense. Idk if it does


	15. Can I be a hero?

Dean wasn't breathing. His chest had stilled and he wasn't moving. Cas jumped to get to him, shaking him and begging for him to wake up.  
  
"Dean!" Cas barmed, trying to wake him. His hand jabbed at the nurse call button hard enough to jam his finger and he screamed. "Help! Someone help!" He could hear the beeping of the machines and the roar of voices. He could feel the energy around him in the room as people poured in and the room spun.

He was being pulled away by strong arms and he let it happen, crumpling to the ground weakly, his legs unable to hold him any longer.

"Step back!" Someone yells. "Get everyone out!" Castiel looked up, head swimming. He could see Dean thrashing between the nurses.  
_He's alive._

Nurses and doctors right to hold him down, another tries to pull Cas away, but he's too heavy, eyes trained on that thrashing shape.

"You're making it worse." A cool voice spoke from the doorway, and everyone turned. Even Dean stilled.

"How did you get out?" Castiel asks, his throat croaking.

"I know a lot of people, baby brother." Lucifer smirked smoothly. "Everyone remain calm. Do not attempt to restrain or touch him, he will attack you and he will kill you without a second thought. Back away and exit the room, all except for officer Novak. And should any attempts to detain me be made, I would like you to know that I have a bomb in this hospital and I will set it off if you do not cooperate." The room erupted in movement, people struggling to exit the room as Lucifer leaned calmly gainst the wall.

When the nurses had scuttled away to call the authorities, Lucifer turned around and locked the door.

Dean was laying completely still on the bed now, eyes blown black. He was looking at Lucifer, breathing hard.

"Dean, come on buddy. Stop fighting it." Lucifer sighed and shook his head. Then he looked at Cas. "Now I'll talk."

He pulled over a chair and sat, perching his head on his hands. Then he began. "I'll give you the short version."

"Dean has a very rare genetic mutation. He developed it younger than anyone we ever took in. Something about him makes it stronger. We're talking rapid regeneration, super strength. With one unfortunate side effect, he gets an insatiable desire for violence. We figured a way to suppress that, but when he's particularly stressed or traumatized, the blood-lust kicks in and his regeneration gets faster. His blood, his DNA, could be used to save thousands of people, it might even be the key to immortality. A way to create super soldiers. The possibilities are endless." He paused, looking at Dean. "When he was young, a spike in his system caused his blood to change in a way we couldn't understand. During the time that happened we collected as much as we could."

Lucifer took a deep breath. "But then we analyzed the blood and figured out that along with the mutation came a disease. A ticking time bomb, that, theoretically if the mutation was strong enough, the healing factor would fix. So we tested them. Brought them to the brink of death and back again over and over, put as much stress on them as we could, and Dean? He didn't break. He didn't even bend. Every single time he healed like a champ and we kept going, seeing how far we could take it until-"

"Stop! Lucifer just...stop." Castiel was breathing hard, looking at the ground in distress. It was too much at once, his mind racing to understand what he had just been told.

"Dean just died. And the mutation brought him back, brother. Think of the po-"

" _I don't want to think of the possibilities!_ What you did was sick and twisted and you claim its for science and the greater good! What kind of fucking twisted human being are you?! You tortured him. A five year old boy. And you have the audacity to stand in front of me and defend that?!"

Lucifer looked at his brother and shook his head. Then he looked at Dean. "Like a trapped animal. Pathetic." He sighed and reached in his pocket, pulling out a remote. He held it out to Castiel, who looked at him questioningly.

"There is no bomb. This remote is for the computers at the facility, it will unlock everything you need to know. You can take me into custody now."

Dean had sat up, his eyes still black as he watched the exchange. Castiel hesitantly took the remote and Lucifer put his hands up, an obvious surrender.

"Dean." Lucifer looked at him. "Your name is Dean."

Watching those black eyes fade to green was surreal. The way the darkness faded until Dean was left behind.

Castiel pulled Lucifer's hands behind his back but he didn't have handcuffs so he opted for a tight grip.

"You're a sick fuck and you're going to prison for the rest of your life, do you understand me?"

"You really are just like dad."

Castiel just marched him out of the room.

~~~~

Dean was innocent. He never did anything to deserve what came to him besides being born different. All the years of torture and hatred, all because of something he had no control over.

Dean sighed, curling deeper into himself and gripping at his arms. He was trying so hard to keep from falling apart, now that everything had come to light.

He was a freak. A flaw in the genetic norm of a human being. Controlled by a rage that could pop up any time. And he was afraid, because of course he was. If he went nuts again, who would stop him? Castiel? Lucifer? Who would pull him back?

Or would they even bother trying? Would they just shoot him and get it over with because he was a freak? A murderer?

God. He can hear them screaming. Every time he closes his eyes he can hear them, and see their terror. And it hurts. It hurts so much, their screams never leave his ears.

_The woman is struggling, begging for him not to hurt her. Her mouth is open in a silent scream, her breath ripped from her by his hands on her throat. She's crying, trying to flail away but there's no hope._

_She goes limp and Dean chuckles darkly._

"Dean?! Come on wake up." Castiel is over him, a hand on his shoulder. Dean is crying, the tears having a race down his cheeks. His eyes shine up at Castiel, begging.

Then those arms around him, lips in his hair, and that gravelly voice in his ear. "Shhh, Dean. It's over. Its over." But it's not.  Its not.

Dean grips tightly to Cas, like he's scared he's going to leave. And Cas grips right back, a silent promise that he won't.

They fall asleep like that, holding tight to each other, making sure that the other doesn't leave.

~~~~

They wake up curled tightly into each other, but neither seems to mind.

The morning is peaceful and smooth, for the first time in a while. They eat breakfast and curl together on the couch to watch one of those TV shows Dean doesn't understand. It's nice, just being close to each other. At some point, Cas's fingers had made their way into Dean's hair, stroking it absentmindedly, and Dean leans into the touch from his place against Castiel's side. This silence is nice.

At some point, Dean drops off next to Castiel, and he doesn't have any nightmares. When he wakes up an hour later, Castiel hasn't moved, in fact, he's asleep now.

The day is lazy, and it's nice. Just being near each other is enough.

When they're both awake again, they shift positions to be more comfortable.

Then they watch a movie about a man who gets green and goes crazy whenever he gets angry.

As the movie goes on, the green guy becomes a hero, learns to somewhat control himself.

At the end, Castiel looks at him, a question I'm his eyes. "Why are you crying, Dean?" Dean looks up.

"Can I be a hero too, Cas?" It's almost a childish thing to say but Castiel's eyes soften.

"Of course you can Dean." He leans forward and kisses the tears away. "Of course you can." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually wrote this chapter while cuddling with my girlfriend, and I thought it would be nice to give the boys a break


	16. Safe

Lucifer was in jail, the subjects were dead. Alistair was in jail. And Dean was still broken. Like he had always been, broken. Even with Cas, he was broken. He could feel it, deep in his chest, every time he woke up screaming in terror, sweat soaking his sheets, he could feel it. The cracks just deepened night by night. But then there was Castiel, picking his pieces up and holding them together. But no matter how tight Castiel held him together, they still fell back apart, tinkling with the sounds of broken glass the second Castiel was gone.

Months passed this way. A year. He was broken, like he always would be.

"Hey, Dean. What do you think about getting that tattoo covered up? It's pretty small, we could probably do something with it." Dean looked up from his breakfast.

"Cover up?" He asked. Even after so long there were concepts he struggled to grasp.

"The tattoo, on the back of your leg." Dean cringes, remembering the pain when it had been inked there. "I just figured it would be good for you to leave that part of you behind. The case is closed, the people responsible are behind bars. It's time to move on." Castiel looks up at Dean, who's busy searching his plate for something to say, to explain why he doesn't want that. "Dean? You okay?" Dean looks up, eyes sad.

"No. I don't want to cover it up. I don't want to treat it like it never happened because I can't. It's not gonna go away because that stupid tattoo did. I'm still gonna see that shit for the rest of my life. So no. I'm not going through that kind of pain for something that's pointless and material." Dean stands up but Castiel grabs his arm.

"Come on Dean. Please. Not today." That's a phrase that's been flying around a lot lately. Dean has bad days. Days where everything is too much, where every moment makes him want to scream at the top of his lungs. Cas gets tired of them, Dean can sense it. Where he was once patient and kind, hes now irritable and angry. Dean understands.

"Sorry." He chokes out, and walks out of the room. He still doesn't have a room of his own, so he goes to the hallway and, quietly as he can, slips away out the door.

He does it more than Cas knows. Just slips away and goes. He knows it's not safe, that he could go off at any moment. He's been working on his emotional stability but it's hard. Especially with a past like his.

When he goes out he likes to think. He likes to let the cool air wash over him and just listen to the world around him. He sits in the grass just behind the apartment building, not willing to go too far today. He sighs and looks at the sky.

Every moment has been agony, every movement. He's broken, a freak. And he hates it, of course he does. But for now, he just turns his face to the sky and tries to stop thinking.

~~~~

When Dean storms away, Cas drops his head into his hands. He's just trying to help, of course he is. But it's getting to be too much. He hasn't slept a full night since God knows when, he constantly has to deal with Dean's increasingly common mood swings.

Dean thinks that Cas doesn't know when he leaves. But of course he does. He knows every move the man makes. He has to.

Even when Dean doesn't call out, Cas can hear his crying through the wall. So every night, like clockwork, he goes to comfort him. And it's not that he doesn't want to it's just getting hard. His team recently busted a compound that was working with the Perdition Project and only two of the subjects survived the disease. A boy named Adam and a girl named Claire. Both were young, only 16 or 17, and their healing factors were similar to Dean's.

Chuck thinks it would be a good idea to house the three subjects together, help them get accustomed to every day life, have Dean help them ease into it the way he did, help them work on their temper. But that would mean Castiel wouldn't be Dean's caretaker anymore, wouldn't be there to sooth him when the nightmares came or introduce him to all new things.

Dean wouldn't need him anymore.

And part of him, that part that's held Dean close and kissed him on the forehead and rocked him through the worst of the nightmares wants to keep him close. And he knows it's selfish but he wants that, needs it. He needs to be needed and Dean doesn't need him anymore. So he's lost. Sure, he has Charlie and his co-workers but what does any of it amount to? A huge vat of nothing. Just empty space.

Its late when Dean comes back. Cas is already in bed but he can hear the door creek and the familiar footsteps down the hall. He sighs in relief and finally allows himself to drift asleep.

_Castiel can't breathe. His eyes are focused on that face, the face he knows so well. "Y-yeah, that's her." He manages to choke out._

_"Do you know if any family we can call? Anyone we should notify?" The officer asks, obviously trying to be sensitive but needing information._

_"I'm all she had." Castiel whimpers. "We were all we had."_

Castiel is vaguely aware of strong arms wrapping around him, gentle fingers wiping the tears from his cheek.

"We all experience hurt and pain, Castiel. We just experience it differently. Your pain is no less horrifying and important than mine." He whispers gently, holding Castiel closer. "Let me comfort you for once."

They drift off like that, Dean holding tight to Castiel. No more nightmares haunt either of the men that night.

~~~~

"Dean!"

"No Cas!" They've been arguing for over an hour now. "You aren't my fucking dad, you don't get a say in what I do!" He grumbles, cautious of his anger and not letting it get away from him.

"What if you go into an episode!? Or they do?!"

"That's always a possibility! 'What if' isn't gonna change that! Why are you getting so worked up about this?!" The topic of Dean moving in with the other subjects had reared its ugly head at last.

"Because I care about you!" Dean rolled his eyes.

"I thought you'd be happy to have the freak out of your life."

Both stood still at Dean's outburst. "Dean..."

"I'm broken Cas. No matter how hard I try, I'm never gonna be normal. This thing that's wrong with me...it's never gonna go away. I'm gonna spend my entire life afraid of losing my mind and not being able to pull myself out of it. I don't...I cant hurt you." Tears glistened at the edge of his eyes. "I can't. If I go crazy again and I end up...killing you? I won't ever be able to forgive myself. This sickness is in my very genes." Dean wiped away a tear.

"So I have to leave. If I lose it, they'll be able to stop me...kill me if they have to. I have to do this, Cas."

Castiel stared at his charge for a moment, and then nodded slowly. "Okay." He turned away. "I'll tell Chuck you made your decision." His voice broke slightly.

"Castiel." Cas winced at his full name. "I'm just trying to protect you."

Castiel whipped around, fingers fistinf in Dean's shirt. "I'm supposed to protect you! From the moment I saw you I had to protect you! You needed me! And...now you don't. So go, just go and protect others but don't you dare do this to protect me. I don't need it."

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, holding him close. "They need me, like I needed you. Like I still need you." He ran his fingers through Castiel's hair.

"I need you." Dean whispers, and there are so many implications behind that statement, so many meanings.

Like before, so long ago, they kiss. But it's something more this time, more heated, more meaningful. Dean lets Cas lead, knowing his own inexperience. Castiel's tongue asks for entrance and Dean grants it, opening his mouth to the smooth slide of tongue against tongue. He wraps his arms around Cas, tugging him closer and one of them lets out a small moan.

No words pass between them, just like so long ago. Its not needed. Castiel's hands slide down to his hips, pulling them together. Neither of them are at a point for sex yet. Both can sense that, so they just move against each other, seeking intimacy of a different sort.

"If you need this, Dean I'll let you go. But don't do it for me." Castiel breathes heavily, trying to regain his composure as he rests against Dean. "Do it for you, for what you need." Dean nodded slowly, breath shaking.

"Cas? I think I'm ready to get that tattoo covered up."

~~~~

The next day found them in a tattoo shop, talking to one of Castiel's friends.

"This would be fairly easy, it's smaller than Castiel described. You can look through some of my designs." Dean nodded, grabbing the book and flipping through.

Half an hour found no answer. Dean sighed and looked up, a piece of paper catching his eye on the desk. He reached out and pulled it out from under the desk.

"What is this?" He asked the artist.

"Oh that's for one of my other clients. I don't think it could work for your purpose, but I could definitely put it somewhere else if you were interested."

The sketch Dean held was a star with a sort of swirly pattern around it. "What is it?"

"Its supposed to protect people from demon possession. It's all bullshit but quite a few clients come in for it."

"I want it, I'll cover up the other one later. I want this one."

The tattoo found its home in his chest, right over his heart, where one of the larger gashes had been so long ago. He admired it for a while, and Castiel nodded at it in approval.

The other tattoo could wait for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work, but oh well, I'll edit later


End file.
